Albus Potter and the Global Revelation
by NoahPhantom
Summary: -BOOK 1/7. COMPLETE. Book 4 coming soon. Structured like original HP books.- Albus starts at Hogwarts! The world is in tumult over a vital question: in the age of technology, should Muggles be informed of magic now before they find out anyway? But there are more problems (see long summary inside). And Albus is right in the center of them all. A one thousand review series so far!
1. Albus Severus Potter

_**(Longer plot summary is below that line down there. First two paragraphs are introduction. Read whichever of my musings you so desire.)**_

_**Hi! Welcome to the Albus Potter series, thanks for checking it out. I've been working on this since about the mesozoic period. (By which I mean... early August, I think?) Yes, I will ABSOLUTELY be writing all seven books. You can count on that! Also, there will be weekly updates, which are 100% guaranteed, because even if I don't have time to write, I try to keep ahead of schedule so that I can upload anyway.**_

_**There is a strong, coherent structure to all seven books of this series. They're all named, and I've even written select chapters from other books already. This is a well-planned series with a fantastic plot. (I can say that without sounding egomaniacal because I didn't come up with the plot, a friend of mine did and sent me a one hundred page word document of detail about it. I'm serious. One hundred pages. Go Andy.) But I'll leave it to you to compliment or critique my writing. PLEASE REVIEW! I can't express how much it makes my day to log in to my e-mail and see that someone else has been here and that this story had enough of an impact that they took five or ten seconds from their day to write a quick encouraging message or suggestion. I do this for you, after all!**_

_**-Cody**_

* * *

_**Better plot summary: It is Albus Severus Potter's first year at Hogwarts, and though he'd like to spend all his time enjoying it, he can't. There's too much going on in the world that he can't ignore. There are attacks and disappearances, like there were in the days of Voldemort, and a similar fear is taking hold of the world. There are even sightings of former Death Eaters and known allies of Voldemort, but no one is sure if they are even involved, or if a new enemy is rising from the ashes of the old like a phoenix.**_

_**Unfortunately timed with these crises, the Wizarding World is forced to undergo debates on an absolutely imperative issue. Do they let the Muggles know of the magical world at last? Or do they continue to attempt to conceal themselves? It has been done effectively without much trouble for centuries, but in recent times this is a job that grows ever harder, while wizard terrorists and extremist groups risk revealing magic to Muggles at any given opportunity, and Obliviators and other Ministry officials are targeted by an unknown enemy.**_

_**Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, Albus is having some adventures of his own. He's encountering dangerous magical creatures, like the mulunctapoli, with the curious ability to shapeshift, and girls, with the curious ability to make the linguistic areas of your brain stop working. All Albus wants, though, is to soar through school over the expectations that everyone's put on him because of his father. He wants to make a name for himself; he wants to be known as Albus Potter, not just as Harry Potter's son. If only they knew that Albus's seven years would be full of even more danger than his father's...**_

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ALBUS POTTER AND THE GLOBAL REVELATION

CONTENTS

O

ONE

Albus Severus Potter

O

TWO

A Healthy Level of Rebellion

O

THREE

To Hogwarts

O

FOUR

The Sorting Hat's Choice

O

FIVE

Acclimatization

O

SIX

Dizzy and Dismiusa

O

SEVEN

The Mulunctapoli

O

EIGHT

Quidditch Fever

O

NINE

The Midyear Exams

O

TEN

Tinsel and Tension

O

ELEVEN

From Holly to Holly

O

TWELVE

The Defense Association

O

THIRTEEN

The Debates

O

FOURTEEN

The Dueling Tournament

O

FIFTEEN

Opening Old Wounds

O

SIXTEEN

The Global Revelation

O

SEVENTEEN

All Hell

O

* * *

O

CHAPTER ONE

ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER

O

Images of Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape swam to the front of Harry Potter's mind as he sat in the dimly lit kitchen on the evening of July the fifteenth, 2006, moving his hand along the extended belly of his wife, Ginevra Potter.

"I'm still thinking Albus Severus," said Harry quietly; he did not want to wake his other son, James Sirius Potter.

"I still love it," whispered his wife, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Are you sure?" said Harry. "I'm sorry. I named our first. Am I being greedy?"

"I'd have named him Fred," answered Ginny. "But that's taken. Besides, I want a daughter. If we have a daughter I want to name her Lily Luna. I'm glad you got to name our sons."

"Luna?" responded Harry, with an intrigued smile. "Lily Luna… It's lovely. For Luna Lovegood?"

"It could be Luna Scamander soon, but yes," murmured Ginny. "She's a dear friend. And, luckily for her, I just love her name. And Lily for your mother. I love that name too."

Harry felt a kick against his hand. He and his wife gave each other a loving glance.

"I still can't believe it took Ron and Hermione so long to have their first," laughed Ginny softly. "They were attached to each other at the hip, after the war… You'd have thought they would have half a dozen kids already." She leaned back and looked at the ceiling. "Rose Cedrella Weasley. Damn them and their amazing name selection."

Harry feigned shock. "You don't like our son's name?"

"James Sirius Potter… Come on, Harry. Two stressed syllables in a row… all the consonant sounds between the end of the first name and the start of the middle… It's terrible. I love him, and he deserves both names, the brave things those men did… it's just too bad that the names clash so bloody awful."

Harry laughed and ran his fingers through his wife's hair. "Fancy a backrub?"

Ginny groaned with delight. "I'd love it."

Harry got up, walked around the back of the couch, and dug his hands into the shoulders of his wife.

"Harder, softer?"

"Just right, as always," she sighed. "And no magic this time!"

"No magic on your body while you're pregnant," said Harry seriously. "I don't want our kid coming out looking like the kind of thing Luna brings back from her holidays."

"Albus Severus Potter is beautiful, by the way," said Ginny. "Much better."

"Try not to show him too much favoritism," replied Harry.

"Of course not. I probably won't be able to pay ENOUGH attention to him. I'm too busy watching James to make sure he's not wrecking the house. Two years old and he's already as mischievous as you and Ron were."

"I'm impressed that he's already done magic," said Harry. "When's the average age where they usually start to show magic?"

"Four, I believe. Most experts say average four, most between three and five, almost never later than age seven."

"Then he's already special," said Harry. "Let's give him a lightning bolt scar so everyone will know who he is."

"Oh, come off it. And dig in more at the top, there—ah, yes, that's the spot. Keep going."

"I've got to go back in a couple minutes, obviously," said Harry, "they only gave me ten minutes to visit you again, and I can't blame them. But remember, if the baby's coming, send a Patronus and I'll be at your side as fast as I can, no matter what I'm doing; even if I've got Gallen Ingot in a headlock."

"Do me a favor," huffed Ginny. "If you've got Gallen Ingot in a headlock, stay with him for a bit until you've got him subdued, and then maybe he won't murder our kids. I'll try to hold Albus in if you're busy."

Harry nodded, grinning.

Ginny turned and avoided his gaze. "You can't just take… you know…?"

"I've told you a thousand times, I hate the idea of taking the Elder Wand out with me," answered Harry, knowing what was on her mind. "Imagine losing the most powerful wand in the world to the most powerful wizard in the world. He can already conjure lightning storms and earthquakes against anyone who opposes him. He's already leveled two Muggle towns with boiling lava from nowhere. Think of what he could do with the Elder Wand."

"I know."

"But I might do it anyway."

Ginny looked up at him.

Harry continued. "And that's exactly the problem. Do I take the risk? It well may be that the Elder Wand is the only thing that can put an end to his reign. But if I lose it to him… Then the problem becomes ten thousand times worse. But are we losing wizard and Muggle lives because I'm too afraid to face him like I should, with all my power?"

"You've never been afraid. You've just been rightfully cautious. You're using all the caution you never exercised at Hogwarts when doing something verging on suicidal."

Suddenly, a terrier made of light flew into the room, phasing through the closed window. It sat down on the table, facing them, illuminating with a silver glow the pictures on the wall next to the fireplace—Harry and Ginny, with the infant James; Hermione and Ron, with the newborn Rose; countless other friends and family, all smiling brightly with infectious youth, many of them carrying a child whose head looked as if it were on fire with the trademark Weasley mane.

The silver terrier opened its mouth and spoke in Ron's deep, commanding voice.

"Adelina Nelson went after Ingot."

Harry leapt to his full height, abandoning his wife's shoulders, screaming an obscenity; Ginny looked over sternly at him and then went to close James's door. Harry was about to rush out the back and head to the Ministry when the Patronus spoke again.

"We interviewed several Muggles who called the police—they said they witnessed a mighty duel. Nelson and Ingot were at it for almost a quarter hour. Then suddenly they both struck blows—and they both shattered into dust. The two wands recovered at the site in question have been identified as Ingot's and Nelson's. They are both confirmed dead."

Harry stared.

"We will explain more in the office tomorrow. These dark times are finally over."

Ginny let out an audible gasp. The silver terrier faded into the darkness.

Harry tried to mouth his inexpressible joy. Ginny stood up; Harry turned to her. "I can't believe it either! Nelson… she took him down! I… I can't believe she's gone, too… but… she did it! People will revere her forever! This—"

But Ginny wasn't looking at him; she was staring down at the floor, mouth open, clutching her knee with one hand and her stomach with the other. Then she looked up again and whispered words so softly Harry could barely hear them.

"Albus is coming."

O

As Albus grew, it became clearer and clearer that he would be the spitting image of his father, just like Harry was the spitting image of his own father—except in this case, Albus had inherited his father's eyes, which Harry had inherited from his mother. Even with the addition of Lily Luna Potter into their family a year and a half later, Albus was the only child who had inherited the eyes of Harry's mother.

Perhaps Albus's most eventful birthday, prior to his enrollment at Hogwarts, was his seventh birthday, on July 15, 2013. At that time, he had still not yet displayed any signs of having magic at all, even though his younger sister had charmed the walls into changing color three years before. It was a very exploitable trait for his troublesome older brother, James, who constantly teased Albus about his lack of observable magic skills.

Albus unwrapped his presents—a bag of tricks, from Uncle George's shop; an assortment of chocolate from Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione (though Aunt Hermione bemoaned that Ron wouldn't let her give Albus books); miniature carvings of dragons from Uncle Charlie, which really roared and spat embers; a gold earring that Albus could stick on his ear without piercing, from Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur (much to Grandma Weasley's irritation); a book of funny facts about the Ministry of Magic, from Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey; and several awesome new toys from his parents. He skimmed through the book on the Ministry and had a few laughs before running off with his friends to play Ground Quidditch with the new set he got from his grandparents.

James halted him by yelling at the top of his lungs, "Why didn't Albus get a Kwikspell kit?"

Albus looked around as Harry stormed over to James to try and quiet him, but James got in another yell.

"You know! 'Cuz he's a Squib and all!"

Albus's face reddened and his eyes started to itch and water. His face screwed up in anger as he was about to yell some things at his brother that he knew would get him in trouble—but just before he got the chance, he felt his mother's hand close on his forearm and she dragged him and his brother into the house for a moment.

James grinned at Albus as they were both seated on the couch, away from the party for a moment. "I only said he _might_ be a Squib; that's true, you know… he hasn't proved me wrong yet…!"

Albus opened his mouth to argue, but Harry cut across him.

"James. What day is it?"

"It's International Adelina Nelson Day, of course!" replied James immediately with confidence.

Harry glared. "Besides that."

"What, you think Albus is more important than Adelina Nelson?"

"James, it is Albus's birthday today. Firstly, you should know better than to antagonize him like this today. It's his special day. Birthdays are supposed to be a happy time. When I turned seven, I lived with my cousin's family, and they gave me an English to Spanish Dictionary that had been lying around the house unused since I arrived—and that was it. Do you know how that made me feel?"

James didn't reply; he just stared out the window.

Harry was angrier than he knew was rational, but the anger from his stay with the Dursleys was reigniting inside him; he didn't want any of his son's birthdays to be as miserable as his own. "You can't say things like that on your brother's birthday. Understand?"

"I was just SAYING!" yelled James.

"We've warned you before not to say that!" Ginny said. "You're going to apologize to your brother now."

"Sorry you're a Squib," James shot angrily.

Albus stared at his feet and squeezed his eyes shut. He had never in his life hit anyone, but he was sorely tempted now. A teardrop trickled down his face.

"You're not leaving the house again today," said Harry. He grabbed James's hand and dragged him towards the stairs.

"Hey! Come on! I'm just having fun! Albus knows I'm just having fun, right, Al?"

Albus glared at him. "I hate you," he whispered.

"Humph," said James. "Well, 's not MY fault you're a Squib."

"I AM NOT A SQUIB!" Albus yelled, his temper finally snapping, and he leapt from the couch, slamming his foot on the ground, about to pursue his brother and hit him for the first time ever.

And suddenly, they all knew he was not a Squib.

The house rocked as a shock wave blasted out from Albus's foot when he pounded it onto the ground. There was an earsplitting explosion, and the walls of the house splintered outward as quickly as one would snap a twig. The rest of the house imploded, and pictures, ornaments, and anything loose in the house shattered and flew in every direction. The fireplace, which was spitting a light blue flame that cooled the house instead of heating it, erupted and sent fire billowing across the room as the ceiling fell, having lost support; there was a great crash as everything fell to the ground as one. But the wreckage parted as it fell over the heads of Albus and his parents, leaving them unscathed as the house collapsed around them. The only person injured was James, who emerged from the wreckage covered in cuts and burns, whimpering softly as he clutched what appeared to be a broken wrist.

Albus stared at the shattered remains of his house, and then turned around to see everyone looking at him; he realized with a start that all the walls were gone, and he was standing in a bare patch surrounded by the wreckage of his former house, piled up two feet deep. He burst into tears.

"I'm sorry!" cried Albus, falling on his side and clutching his knees. "I b-b-broke the h-house—I d-didn't m-mean to!"

His father walked over and pulled him into a tight hug as his mother got to James and started to fix him back up.

"It's okay," whispered Harry. "Albus, this happens to a lot of people when they do magic for the first time."

Albus looked up, suddenly realizing exactly what had just happened—in looking at the damage he'd done to his brother, he'd forgotten that it was magic.

"I did… m…" He took a heaving, shaking breath. "Magic?"

"Yes," laughed Harry. "Yes, Albus, you did magic. You're _definitely_ not a Squib."

Albus laughed quietly too, but tears continued to stream down his face.

"And don't let him tell you that it took you too long, either," said Harry, correctly predicting the next four years of teasing. "How long it took you to show off your magic—that has nothing to do with how good you really are. I'll tell you why it took you so long: because you have such an even temper. You never get too hyper, or too angry, or too upset. This was the first time I've ever seen you have an emotional outburst, and that's why this is also the first time we've seen you do magic. If anything, you have way more control than your brother."

Albus smiled and the tears stopped coming. He looked up at his father, and they embraced in a very tight hug.

"Go on and get back to the party," encouraged Harry. "Your mother and I can repair the house; no damage done. Go on! Try out your new Ground Quidditch set. And make sure James isn't a Seeker. I know he wants to be, but the game will be over too fast."

James, his wrist better and his cuts all healed, raced after his brother, yelling, "I call Seeker!"

"Wow," said Ginny, walking up behind Harry. "I mean, wow. James is the dictionary definition of destruction, and he never did anything like this."

"He didn't have it building up for seven years," grinned Harry.

"Still, though."

"No, I know what you mean. This kid's got some serious power."

As Albus ran cheerfully towards the open field where his cousins were opening up the Ground Quidditch set, every footstep he left set the grass on fire.


	2. A Healthy Level of Rebellion

CHAPTER TWO

A HEALTHY LEVEL OF REBELLION

O

Albus woke before anyone else on his eleventh birthday. He tried to return to sleep, but as he slowly grew more conscious of where he was, the realization that it was his birthday snapped his eyes open and he was instantly fully awake.

He trotted downstairs, and watched the door: A rare spectacle was occurring. A small owl had arrived, carrying the Daily Prophet, and rapped its beak on the glass door that led to the back porch. A small device of his father's own invention melted through the glass, a small metal claw placing two Knuts in the owl's pouch. The owl dropped the Daily Prophet, and the claw caught it, though three or four pages in the middle fell out, and brought them back through the solid glass.

"Ah, needs repair again, dropped a few pages," said a voice behind Albus that made him jump. He turned around and saw his father there, who waved to him with his left hand, holding a glass of water in his right. "If it isn't the eleven-year-old! Happy birthday, Al."

Albus grinned and rushed over to his father, tackling him hard and almost knocking him over; water sloshed over the top of his father's glass and spilled all over the top of his head. "Whoa, settle down there! Little too enthusiastic. Here—" Harry pulled out his wand, and with a wave, hot air billowed from the tip, drying off his son's head but making the back of Albus's hair stick up even worse than Harry's had in his youth.

"Hold on a moment, let me scan the front page if there's anything important," said Harry. He pushed his son off and glanced at the front page briefly. "Ah, Celestina Warbeck passed away… big celebration in Diagon Alley for Adelina Nelson Day…" He threw the paper over his shoulder, and Albus grinned. "But today's about you, buddy! What do you want to do today!"

Albus frowned—he was supposed to think of something last night, for he still hadn't decided what he wanted to do today. But he had fallen asleep very quickly, which was also why he'd gotten up so early. He still didn't know.

"Oh, come on, Albus! You have to have thought of something. You don't turn eleven every day! Want to go back to the—"

He stopped and grinned, because two more owls had appeared: one of them was carrying two letters, and the other a rather large parcel. Harry flicked his wand to open the sliding glass door, and the owls zoomed in and dropped their packages. Another three showed up as the first two were leaving, dropping three more letters.

"Birthday cards, I expect," said Harry, grinning, and Albus, rubbing his eyes, sat down to tear them open. He reached for the large parcel first, ripping off the paper and opening a box to find a hastily decorated cake, reading _HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALBUS_. There was a card tucked in the side, covered in icing. He opened it and read,

_To Albus;_

_Have a great birthday and a fantastic time at Hogwarts!_

_Hagrid, Maxime, and Grawp_

"He never forgets our birthdays," said Albus, grinning. "I wish he was still teaching Care of Magical Creatures."

"You might be all the luckier that he isn't," laughed Harry. "I love Hagrid to death, but now I'm not as worried about this birthday being your last. But it's still cool that Uncle Charlie is teaching, isn't it?"

Albus dropped the second letter he was holding. "What?!" he yelled in delight. "You didn't tell me that!"

"Quieter, Al, you'll wake up your brother and sister," said Harry. "And that's right, I forgot you weren't here when I told James! You know how Uncle Charlie substituted the year Hagrid left? Well, Professor Nesbit resigned, and Professor Wilcox had a job finding someone good to fill the job. He asked Uncle Charlie to fill in until they find a permanent replacement."

"That's awesome!" beamed Albus. "I hope he's still there when I'm in my third year so I can have him!" He turned back to the letter he dropped, which he had picked back up off the floor, and he frowned. "Hey! This one's addressed to James."

"Wha's addressing me?"

James walked into the room, yawning so they could only barely understand what he'd said. He spied the letters and seemed to wake up rather quickly. "Oh! Our Hogwarts booklists."

"Oh, yeah," said Albus, noticing the Hogwarts seal on the back.

He side-armed his brother's letter at the doorway and James caught it, tearing it open fast. "This is early for Hogwarts, innit Dad?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, actually, very early for yours. I remember one of my years, the letter didn't come until the day before. Diagon Alley was incredibly packed… But we got there during a lull, we could see the traffic, we were at the Leaky Cauldron."

James wasn't listening to his father at all, but Albus had been, and he asked quizzically, "Why were you staying at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"I blew up my aunt."

This line got James's brief attention; he glanced up and grinned, then he turned back to his letter. Albus was surprised to see that he had opened his letter from Hogwarts already, without even realizing that he was holding it. He dropped his eyes and began to read excitedly.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Helio Wilcox

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 4. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Neville Longbottom,

_Deputy Headmaster_

Albus grinned. "Neville's Deputy Headmaster now?"

"Is that who sent you the letter?" said Harry, leaning over. "James's was sent to him by Theodora Thigby, the old Transfigur—"

"Professor Thigby?" said James, looking over the top of his letter. "She sent me my letter in my first year. She used to be the Transfiguration professor."

"That is exactly what I just said, James," said Harry, rubbing his tired eyes as Albus sniggered. "You need to listen a little more, maybe then you'd do better on your exams."

"I've just got lots of room for improvement, is all. Nobody's perfect."

"The lack of perfection in the world is hardly justification to pursue ignorance," said a small voice from the doorway.

James moved aside to reveal Lily, still in her nightclothes and still clutching her stuffed unicorn. Harry laughed, brushing his hair back. "I'll have to write that one down, Lily," he said. "You're a child prodigy, you know that?"

Lily sat down at the table. "Happy birthday, Albus," she whispered; only then did Albus remember (without much surprise) that his brother had failed to wish him a happy birthday. Harry fetched Lily a glass of water and a saucer of water; he put both down in front of his daughter. She picked up her glass and drained it as her stuffed unicorn sipped from the saucer. Harry continued, and Albus continued listening as James continued reading his booklist.

"What was I saying? Ah—Neville being Deputy Headmaster. I can't believe it, this upcoming year is only, what, his twelfth? Eleven—he took over Herbology from Sprout the year that you were born, Albus, after Gallen Ingot was taken down. Pity… he was a shockingly impressive Auror when he got over the confidence issues. Ridiculously talented duelist. Might have been the wand problem, he used his dad's for a while instead buying a wand that had chosen him. But he left after we got Ingot; I suppose he had to pursue his dream of being a Herbology professor. He just felt obliged to do what he could to prevent Ingot from rising to power. He was the only person ever to duel Ingot and live, you know that? Ingot actually ran scared, he was afraid of losing! That was when he was still just a rogue Death Eater, though, before he disappeared for a while and came back with the power to level towns with one stroke of his wand. But he fled… I'm surprised he didn't flee from Nelson—I mean, he got her, but she got him, too… I've forgotten what I was talking about before this… Neville as Deputy Headmaster! It makes sense that someone so young is Deputy Headmaster—the staff is all new, huh? Theodora Thigby, Henrietta Nesbit, and Aurora Sinistra all just left… Westerling, Valon, and Plinky were both hired fairly recently as well… Neville's actually been there the longest out of any of the professors! Well… apart from old Binns…" His brow furrowed. "Wait…"

"What?" Albus said. "Who's Binns? And everyone else you just said?"

"I don't think there are any former Ravenclaws in the teaching staff anymore! Sinistra and Nesbit were both Ravenclaws and Thigby was the Head of Ravenclaw House! Who's going to be Head of Ravenclaw House?"

His mother ambled into the room sleepily and smiled when she saw Albus. "Happy birthday, my little schoolboy!" exclaimed Ginny as she caught a glance of what he was holding. She turned to Harry. "Early for letters, isn't it?"

"We thought so too. Hey, are there any Ravenclaws in the staff at Hogwarts?"

"Hm," thought Ginny. "There was Sinistra, but she just left… and Thigby, but she just left… and Nesbit, but she just left! Goodness, I don't think there are! And so many ladies leaving, too, it'll be fun to see if the men on the staff can keep these students under control, especially James. That's interesting about the Ravenclaws… Let's see…"

As his parents tried to recall everyone on the Hogwarts staff, another pair of owls flew to the door for Albus; Harry waved the sliding glass door open again with his wand and then left it open, figuring there would be more.

"Charlie was a Gryffindor, obviously, and… who's last? The new Astronomy professor? …Oh, it's Obbin! But he never went to Hogwarts, obviously," finished Ginny. "If the new Transfiguration professor used to be a Ravenclaw, he or she is going to be Head of Ravenclaw House in their first year! And if he or she isn't a Ravenclaw, what do you reckon they'll do about that? Put a non-Ravenclaw as Head of Ravenclaw House?"

The owls dropped two more letters on top of the rest of Albus's mail, which reminded him of what he was doing. He turned back to his Hogwarts letter as his father wondered aloud who the new Transfiguration professor was.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and _WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Modern Magical History, 3__rd__ Edition_ by Tiffany Pattekiff

_Charming_ by Quintus Flitwick

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newton Scamander

_Transformogrifiguration_ by Morpheus Meticule

_Eleven Hundred Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore and Dagwood Tanbark

_Modern Potionmaking_ by Chloe Reade

_Scared of the Dark: Encounters with Evil _by Pendleton Prewett

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

James was suddenly breathing down his neck, reading from behind.

"That _Charming_ book sucks," he said.

"Language, James!" flared Ginny.

"But it does, I reckon Plinky only uses it because his grandpa wrote it. And what's with the name of the Transfiguration book? I can't even read that. And Defense Against the Dark Arts, why'd he switch books, I like the old one! I don't like the title of this new one, it makes it out like all kids are afraid of the dark. I like Chloe Reade's book, they're all new, even in the used section, I reckon it came out recently or something—"

"You talk too much," muttered Albus.

"You're ugly too much," retorted James.

Lily looked over Albus's shoulder. "Bagshot is a funny name," she said simply.

"What did James say about the Transfiguration book?" asked Harry lazily, taking Albus's booklist to look. "Interesting choice. Your new Transfiguration teacher sounds like a fun one."

"Who did you have for Transfiguration, Dad?" asked Albus. He enjoyed his father's anecdotes, but his brother hated them—which was a bonus, since when his father started talking, James would leave him alone.

"I had Minerva McGonagall," replied Harry, his chest expanding with pride.

"Wow! Really?"

"Really, really! She was excellent. She didn't take flak from anybody—not even Ministry representatives," he added, laughing at old memories.

"Where do you want to go for your birthday, Albus?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed Harry. "Where to, Al?"

Albus reddened slightly—he still didn't know, why were they asking him?

Then he thought of something, his eyes returning to the booklist in his father's hand.

"Can we go to Diagon Alley?" he said, excitedly.

"Diagon Alley?" said James, awestruck. "You want to go _shopping_ for your birthday?"

"We always go so rushed because Dad doesn't get much time off," Albus said, which was very truthful. "I never get to look around Diagon Alley that much. But Dad took the day off for my birthday! Can we go and look around? We have our Hogwarts booklists already!" He glared at James. "And it's not just _shopping._ The Adelina Nelson Day Carnival is going on there, too!"

"Harry," said Ginny, turning to her husband, "Lance has been badgering us about a visit again, or at least a stop by. Think we could couple this trip with that one?"

"Good idea!" Harry turned to his kids. "All right, Albus, if that's what you want to do with your day, we'll head to Diagon Alley. Then we'll head down Dillied Alley when you're done looking around and say hi to Uncle Lance, sound good?"

"Yeah!" shouted James, suddenly enthralled by the outlook of the day. "More free samples!"

"Don't ask him for free stuff, it makes it look like we're mooching," warned his mother. "I'm certain he'll give them to you whether or not you ask."

"What are we waiting for?" James asked, and jumped up and down by the fireplace.

"We're waiting for your father to send word to Uncle Lance," replied Ginny; Harry pulled out his wand and waved it. A shining silver stag burst out the tip and galloped away through the wall.

"Hey, Mom," said James, his eyes suddenly lighting up, "I just remembered that Barry said he was gonna be at the carnival today! Could I go meet up with him?"

Ginny huffed, which apparently was not at all the response James expected, because he furrowed his brow and huffed back; Albus could almost see his brain formulating preemptive counterarguments. Ginny put her hands on her hips and stared him down.

"Did you forget why we're going in the first place?" she said. "It's your brother's birthday. This is family time."

"He can go," said Albus quickly, knowing that even if he stayed out of it, James would blame him and then be particularly irritable towards him for the next week.

James grinned and then turned towards the wall to show that the argument was over, and there were no take-backs.

"All right, Lance knows we'll be stopping by the shop," Harry alerted the family. "Head out now, then?"

James ran to the fireplace and pulled out some powder that was in a large bowl by the entrance. Without hesitation, he turned to the fire, casting in the powder, yelled "Diagon Alley!" and stepped in.

"Always in such a hurry," said Ginny, shaking her head. "All right, you kids go on. We'll be right behind you."

Albus was next to take the powder; he cast it excitedly into the fire and, as his brother did, shouted with a grin on his face, "Diagon Alley!"

O

The Adelina Nelson Day carnival was even more expansive than it had been two years ago, last time Albus had been there. Diagon Alley was overflowing with people, though it was still early; all were talking loudly and festively, watching some of the carnival rides which shot their riders a quarter mile into the air, laughing hysterically.

"Such levity," sighed Harry as they navigated through the packed crowd. "Don't they realize what this day commemorates? I worked with Adelina Nelson, she was one of the best there was."

"We all know why she did it, and it wasn't so we could all mope on the anniversary," reprimanded Ginny. "Honestly, Harry, you do this every year. I knew Adelina Nelson, too, and she'd have been just as annoyed as me to find you sulking on the anniversary of the duel with Ingot that took us out of the Dark Ages for good."

"Not for good," replied a distracted Harry, as he glanced around at the festivities without really looking. "I would be home a lot more than I currently am if we were completely free of Dark witches and wizards. We're still tracking certain sects; there are still people on the run from the Lestrange brothers' sect and Wilcox's sect. Adelina Nelson wouldn't want us to mope, I'm sure, but she also wouldn't want us to rest while there are still people threatening to take over where Ingot left off."

"And your son's birthday is not the time to discuss this," said Ginny, sternly and through her teeth, directly into her husband's ear. She then turned back to the rest of the family, and announced, "Let's stop in at the joke shop first. I think George and his family are still visiting Bill in Egypt, but we can at least see Fred… Where in the world has your brother gotten to?"

"He already ran off with Barry," said Lily matter-of-factly.

"Of course he has," groaned Ginny. "Why I would have ever expected him to give a you-know-what about his brother's birthday… once a year and he can't even spare a few hours… don't know where he gets off…"

She had resumed walking during her rant, and the three remaining members followed behind her as she trekked to number 93, Diagon Alley.

The doors opened for them when they stood in front of the shop, and they waited—a second later, ink poured from the doorframe, which would have drenched them if they hadn't learned from previous experience. They strode inside the shop, hearing George Weasley's voice echo behind them: "_Invisibility Ink! Splash some on your friends and watch their clothes disappear! Half-price for the month of July!_" They then walked inside under a large banner that read, _"Wile aWay the Weeks at WWW!_"

"All right, Potters?" said a closer voice.

The family turned to watch a large portrait zoom towards them in a levitating frame. The occupant looked like George, except with both ears intact and normal.

"Fred!" exclaimed Ginny, giving the portrait a tight hug. "How great to see you. How goes business?"

"Great as ever," said Fred. His portrait background was a cozy sitting room that Albus recognized as the one in the Burrow. "You folks gonna stay for when George gets here?"

"George is coming back today?" asked Ginny happily.

"Of course! Real soon, too! Lots of business always on Adelina Nelson day, he doesn't like to miss it. Oh—he's bringing some interesting items back, too. He sent word only yesterday explaining a discovery he just made. Bill took him to a tomb in Egypt that carried a curse, it switched peoples' body parts around. He's studied the spell a fair bit and reckons we can turn it into a new Scheming Sweet."

"Oh, goodness," laughed Harry. "I can only imagine what this one's gonna do." Albus turned and wandered around the shelves, still listening but also browsing through the wares.

"He's already got a prototype lollipop, it can temporarily switch your hair with someone else who licks the same pop," explained Fred. Albus passed a stock of Invisibility Ink, and grinned at the picture on front, displaying an almost naked school-age boy covering up his underwear with his hat as people swarmed him, pointing and gawking and rolling on the floor with laughter. "But we don't want to face a lawsuit about people sharing germs, so he's gonna try to put a variation of the Protean Charm on it and sell them in pairs, you lick one, see, and someone licks the other, and it switches the hair of the two lickers for a good three or four hours."

"Got a name yet?"

"Toupeepops—that's a prototype, rough draft name, but we may stick with it…"

Albus passed the novelty figurines; tiny Voldemorts fled from tiny Harry Potters with terrified looks on their snakelike faces. His eyes narrowed slightly for a moment… School would be spectacular, of course, but according to what James said about it, people would be all over him about his father. He wished he could start unknown, make a name for himself… though he might be better off this way. Maybe he could outdo his father, who (from what he gathered) had not been the brightest fairy in the bush at Hogwarts. Rose would obviously be top of their class—she'd been a know-it-all since she learned how to learn—that loss wouldn't be too disappointing, so maybe he could be second.

As he stared at the nearest Voldemort, having its rear end roasted by a beam of light shooting from the scar of a nearby Harry Potter figurine, he had another drop in his stomach as he imagined himself in Slytherin. Why couldn't he get this thought out of his head? He kept walking, passed the figurines of Adelina Nelson and Gallen Ingot having a similar cat-and-mouse chase, and found himself near the entrance again as James and three of his best friends entered.

They walked right through the door, and James slipped his hand inside his pocket, waving his wand to redirect the spray of ink directly into his little brother's chest. Every article of clothing he was wearing, apart from his underwear, vanished completely in an instant, and Albus was left in his underwear in front of the open door to the shop as James and two of his three friends howled with laughter. People passed the shop, laughing and pointing, and Albus screamed and jumped behind a shelf.

"You're not allowed to do magic outside of school!" Albus yelled amidst the mirth, and James laughed harder.

"You still don't get it, little bro!" James yelled. "We're not allowed to do magic if someone's watching. Obviously we can do it if no one's watching, otherwise we'd get into trouble!"

Barry Dunbar, James's closest friend, was the only one not really laughing. He walked around to the front desk, the location to which Fred had floated, and returned with a small vial of clear fluid that he deposited in Albus's hand while the other friends weren't looking. He winked at Albus and rejoined his friends, announcing that he'd like to have a look around at the wares that had been added since their last visit. Albus emptied the vial onto his body and watched his clothes magically return.

Barry had always been kindest to Albus—that was to be expected, as Barry had four older brothers (one who had left Hogwarts already) and had certainly experienced this kind of torment, perhaps even to a further extent. James never really noticed when Barry took pity on Albus, and Albus greatly appreciated it. Despite this concrete difference in their views on the treatment of younger brothers, James and Barry were inseparable. Their other two friends, Gavin Thoreau and Marco Murray, were both the only kid in their family, so younger brothers were like a different species to them, and they enjoyed the exchanges between Albus and James in the same way that Albus might enjoy watching animals confront each other in nature. James and his friends were all in the same year at Hogwarts, two years above Albus, and all in Gryffindor… If Albus wasn't in Gryffindor, he'd never hear the end of it…

His thought train was mercifully halted when the door swung open once more, and after the ink jets had subsided, Uncle George marched in with young Freddie and Roxanne. Albus grinned and waved, and the two dark-skinned siblings waved back. Maybe they could do all their shopping together—both of George's kids were still at Hogwarts, of course. Freddie was a year above James and Roxanne was a year above Albus. They were both (suddenly Albus felt the slightest bit ill again) in Gryffindor, just like every single member of the Weasley and Potter families so far.

George caught sight of Albus and opened his eyes in a wide and welcoming, and largely theatric, pose. "Albie!" he beamed, letting Albus run into his arms in a big hug. George was the only one who called Albus by this nickname. He tousled Albus's hair and clapped him on the back. "I suppose if you're here, then the rest of the family is nearby? What a pleasant surprise!"

At that moment, he caught sight of Ginny and Harry, who were peeking around the corner. He cleared his throat ("Oh, no," said Ginny, "he's gonna do it again…") and began to belt out the song that Albus had heard him sing many times before around his parents, yet still did not get an explanation for it:

"_His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_

_His hair is as dark as a blackboard._

_I wish he was mine, he's really divine,_

_The hero who conquered the Dark Lord!_"

He sang it in a different tune every time, and it was equally embarrassing every time for the Potters, who hid their faces in humiliated laughter as other patrons in the store peeked around to see what the noise was.

"Every time, Georgie?" Ginny sighed, still shaking her head in her hands.

"What was that?" George said, leaning forward and tilting his left ear towards Ginny—the ear which, as they all knew, had been replaced by an Extendable Ear long ago. His father always called George the "ear version of Moody," though Albus didn't know what that meant. George continued, "Speak up, you know my hearing is terrible!"

James gave a cry of delight as he turned a corner and he charged at his uncle, who tackled him to the ground as soon as he came into view. George pretended to get up, but then drove James back into the ground with an elbow. "Oh, I'm ever so sorry!" moaned George with a grin. "Let me just get up—whoa!" He slammed James back down to the ground. "Clumsy, clumsy me."

They both got up and performed a signature handshake, and then George gave James a real hug. "Great to see you, old bean!"

"You too!"

"Here, have a lollipop," said George, handing over a tan-colored lollipop from the inside of his coat.

"Ooh, what does this one do?" asked James as he stuck it in his mouth; Albus grinned, waiting for what he figured would happen, based on the way Roxanne was combing her fingers through her jet-black hair. He rolled his eyes at his brother… What kind of idiot would stick something in his mouth if he didn't know what it was?

Suddenly, he let out a yell and began convulsively itching his scalp. One by one, his hairs changed color and length, snapping out behind him as if in a breeze, until suddenly he had Roxanne's exact head of hair, which tied itself in the same bun with two finger-thick strands spiraling down on either side of his head. Roxanne doubled over laughing, her dark eyes suddenly in sharp contrast with a somewhat short and messy head of light brown hair.

James only figured out what had happened by looking over to Roxanne, and gawked as he felt the bun on the back of his head; all of his friends, including Barry, were rolling on the floor laughing and pointing, just like the people advertised on the front of the Invisibility Ink bottles.

George nodded in satisfaction and then strode to the front of the shop to chat with his brother, sister, and brother-in-law as Albus waved to his father in a sign that he was going to go out window-shopping. Harry gave him a thumbs-up, and Albus exited the shop, remembering to wait for the ink jets to subside again.

He passed Eeylops Owl Emporium, which was filled with kids half his age and size, pointing at all the animals with shrieks of delight not unlike the shrieks of the owls… If only he weren't inheriting the bedraggled bird that his family had kept for him. Flibley, the owl he would be taking to Hogwarts, used to be the family owl; his father said that it used to be Remus Lupin's owl before it was given to Harry when Remus passed away. Teddy Lupin already inherited an owl from his mother's side of the family named Ichabod which he had used during all seven of his years at Hogwarts. It had died just before he graduated last year, but he already had a new owl named Thresher, so Flibley was left to Albus. He would have liked to be able to buy a new owl this year to take to Hogwarts—Flibley didn't look like he was going to last the year anyway. He hoped he wouldn't inherit the family owl, either: Taya was just as obscenely old as her counterpart Flibley. You couldn't even trust her to deliver a letter to the neighbors anymore. Thoebl, James's owl, was young and in perfect health—Albus might inherit him while James got a new owl, but James was very attached to that one. He had hand-selected Thoebl in Eeylops Owl Emporium, and named it himself (the owl was named after James Thoebl, a name his brother had found in _A History of Magic_, which he liked because Thoebl shared his first name). The chances seemed to be slim that Albus would get a brand-new owl like James did in his first year, but he could still hope.

He passed by the owls and looked around at some other shops; the largest cluster of people was around the broomstick shop, which displayed four brooms gleaming in the sunlight—in order of price, there was the fairly new Nimbus 3000; the newest model of the Sheerer series, the Sheerer 1080; the Firebolt, a broom still around the top of its class, which his father used to own but which was shattered after a chase with Death Eaters; and the newest world-class broom model, the Soundsplitter. It was insanely priced, but then again, it was probably to be the broom of choice for the next Quidditch World Cup in two years. It was obviously worth however much they were asking. He wished he could have it—but James was the star Seeker of the family; if anyone got a broom, it would be _him_.

He hopped over to all the stores he would soon be visiting with his parents, sifting through the merchandise and finding dozens of things he wanted, then marking in his mind which four or five of those things he would beg his parents for, and in what order. After having visited almost every store, he took a ride on the At-mos'-fear, the main attraction in the Adelina Nelson Day carnival which shot its riders a thousand feet in the air. As he exited the ride holding his stomach and feeling greatly exhilarated, he caught sight of his parents looking for him, and raced over to them to start shopping for his school supplies.

An hour passed as he and his parents jumped from store to store, gathering more and more supplies and mounting Albus's excitement more and more. Finally they picked up his schoolbooks, while Harry picked up a signed copy of a book on dueling for Aunt Hermione's birthday, and then the only thing left to get was Albus's wand.

They walked into Ollivanders' wand shop and waited in the front. Albus recalled one of his father's stories where he'd rescued Mr. Ollivander from the clutches of the Death Eaters. Mr. Ollivander had passed away, but his shop was still open, run by a friend of his parents'. She only opened the shop during the summer, because during the other seasons, she was off cataloguing strange and fantastic creatures with her husband Rolf Scamander.

"Hello, Luna!" said Ginny cheerfully as the familiar blonde head peeked up into sight. Luna smiled warmly and flicked her wand at the corner of a shop, and a machine in the corner floated over towards them. It looked like it would be used to measure height.

"If you would step onto the machine, Albus, dear," said Luna dreamily.

Albus obliged, and stepped onto the small platform that was one of only two parts to the machine. The only other part, a vertical rod that was almost twice his height, began rocking back and forth like a pendulum.

Luna walked forward and chatted with his parents for a while. Whenever the pendulum stopped swinging, she would break off of her conversation for a while and ask Albus to do random things, like hold his arms out on either side, or hold them out in front of him, or hold his right foot in his right hand without falling, which took a few tries. With every new stance, the machine's pendulum-like rod would switch its direction of rotation; it seemed to make sense to Luna, who was nodding and writing something down every time he switched, timing how long it took for the machine to stop.

"I don't know why you don't do this for a living, Luna," Ginny was saying. "You are the greatest wandmaker the world's ever seen! You pioneered the seven maturation processes of wandmaking… and the use of chimaera mane hair, manticore spikes… There's more, isn't there?"

"Yes, remora bones and acromantula bristles," said Luna casually. "I'm working on more, too. But it wasn't all me, Ollivander taught me a lot about wandmaking. He was the one who told me his suspicions about the possibility of wand wood maturation. I just took it a step further and figured out how to mature the wands without obliterating them. Anyway… I enjoy magizoology more. Wandmaking is an enjoyable pastime, but I wouldn't want to do it all year round; this is perfect for me, and I seem to be keeping up with the business just fine as long as Hugh's around to help. …By the way, your son has a very odd reading, I've never seen anything like it. You can step off now, dear."

Albus stepped off of the machine. "How is it weird?"

"Not weird, just odd," said Luna. "You have a very narrow range, and you appear to necessitate some unusual combinations. And it seems you'll require an unusually combative wand."

He exchanged glances with his siblings. If there was any word Albus would NOT use to describe himself, it would be "combative." His parents were exchanging similar glances; what was Luna getting at?

Albus's attention was then caught by the sound of shuffling, and he looked for the source, his eyes finally falling on a somewhat tall man who carried several boxes, seeking for places to fit them in the neatly aligned rows. He flicked his wand, and some boxes on a low shelf slid upwards; he reached down to insert something between the piles. Albus did not mean to let out an audible gasp, but he couldn't help it—the man was missing all but the first two fingers on his left hand. The other three looked to have been cleanly severed at their bases.

"Oh, don't mind Hugh," said Luna. "Back to wands, shall we?"

But she saw his questioning look at Hugh's disfigurement, which he hid under a fresh stack of boxes as he tottered out of sight drunkenly, and she whispered in his ear.

"He got his fingers cursed off by Fenrir Greyback," Luna whispered. "Your family knows how some wounds can't be healed; take your Uncle George."

Albus thought about George's Extendable Ear.

Hugh popped his head around the corner, but he didn't bring his arm and fingers into sight. "That the Potters?"

"Hello, Hugh," said Harry. Ginny waved brightly, and Hugh waved back.

"We can get back to wands, then," said Luna. "Let's do red oak, seven and a half inches, rigidity scale 6, core of chimaera mane hair, matured in flame." On cue, a box slid itself out of the shelf and raced into her open hand. She lifted the top of the box and gestured for Albus to take it.

Albus had almost closed his fingers around it when Luna yanked away the box and closed the lid back on it; she let go and the box drifted back to its shelf. "No, no, that won't do," she murmured, and she scanned her notes again. "We'll go with… ebony, you've got to be ebony. Ebony… ten inches… rigidity scale 7… phoenix feather… matured in Frostflame."

This time, when the box opened itself for Albus, he was able to take it and hold it for a split second before Luna took it away. "I like the Frostflame," she said. "But not so much the phoenix feather, or even really the ebony… maybe there's an ebony match for you, but I don't think I have it. You'll try blackthorn, twelve inches, rigidity 8, manticore spike, matured in Frostflame."

Albus took it for less than a second; Luna pulled it away again. "Yes, definitely Frostflame. You're a Frostflame kind of boy. But I think the wood is wrong. You'll have a less combative wood, but a fighting spirit in your core."

Albus tried what must have been forty more wands, but Luna didn't seem at all discouraged, no matter how many wands he went through. There was now a line of four families behind him, and they laughed quietly every time a wand rejected him. A silent fear started to take hold in him, that he might never find a matching wand, that he would never be a wizard. Was this because it had taken so long for him to find magic?

"I'm going to experiment with the experimental wands," said Luna. "I'm getting stymied with the old combinations. If one of these chooses you, I'd like you to send me a monthly update on how the wand is behaving, what it's doing well, and which magic is harder for the wand to pick up. If it misbehaves too badly, I'll replace it for free."

"The wand might misbehave?" asked Albus.

Harry promised to explain that sort of thing to him later as Luna called for a wand that was birch, twelve and three-quarter inches, rigidity scale 9, core of Screeching Cactus spine, matured in Frostflame.

This one, Albus was able to hold for about a second. Luna took it and nodded. "I think we're getting closer," she said, "which leaves us probably only one possibility left…"

The crowd behind Albus sighed in relief.

Luna stared unblinkingly into Albus's eyes as she said, "Silver lime, fourteen inches, rigidity scale 10, core of Devil's Snare tendril, matured in Frostflame. I think this is the one. You have your father's eyes, Albus."

"Er… I know…" said Albus shakily, as he reached into the box that opened in front of him, convinced that this was his last hope for ever becoming a wizard. Maybe Aunt Audrey would take him in, she wouldn't be embarrassed that he couldn't do magic.

His fingers hadn't even moved over the box when the wand jumped into his hand.

The crowd behind Albus cheered amusedly, and his cheeks turned red as he examined the lengthy, sturdy, handsome silver wand, turning it over and feeling a strange lightness come over his head.

"Fascinating!" Luna said brightly. She wrote down the composition of his wand, and made a few other marks. "Now, the price would normally be twelve Galleons for that wand, but I'll cut it in half if you'd do me the favor of writing to me every month with a comprehensive review of your wand, so that I can keep it for my records to study when I'm making similar wands. Okay?"

"Okay," grinned Albus. He was still in ecstasy over having been chosen.

"I can tell you the basics of your wand's probable behavior, though," said Luna. "Your wand is silver lime—a beautiful wood which is known to be strong in the metaphysical area of magic. You'll be able to perform magic with somewhat less theory than others, though I recommend you become just as learned in magical theory, in case something happens to your wand and you get a more stubborn one. Silver lime wands were mostly the mark of someone who is a Seer, or a skilled Legilimens, or both." Albus's parents both raised eyebrows. "It is a particularly long wand, which tends to indicate control, accuracy, and power, but makes it slightly on the slow side. The rigidity is at a full ten of ten, so you'll have even better accuracy and control. And the core of Devil's Snare, combined with the maturation process of Frostflame… That will, I think, cancel out the sluggishness suggested by the length, and give a rather strong kick to your elemental forms of magic. This is the wand of a master duelist, and a spectacularly gifted intellectual as well. This could be the most impressive wand I've ever sold, if my theories are correct. There's a reason this was an experiment."

Albus turned back around to his parents, who hugged him and praised him while they paid for his purchase as the next people in line stepped up, grateful that their wait was over. They left the store, Albus beaming over his new wand.

James began moaning that he missed his fun day with his friends for these boring errands. Albus was about to say that he was ready to leave when his father spied a friend.

"Justin!" called Harry; a thick-set man with thinning brown hair turned to them and gave a friendly wave. He headed in their direction, dragging with him a train of five children, three boys and two girls, and an extremely exhausted-looking wife.

"All right, Laura?" said Harry, giving the stressed woman a kiss on the cheek. "Great to see you!" Justin did the same to Ginny, and James stifled a giggle.

Justin looked down at James. "Got one or two going off to Hogwarts this year?"

"Two," replied Harry. "And unless I'm much mistaken, you've got your first one headed off this September?"

A small, very thin boy with deep blue eyes and jet-black hair looked up and nodded at the mention of Justin's "first." Justin patted him on the head and smiled. "True, very true! Excited, aren't we, Aidan?" Albus couldn't help but notice that Aidan had much darker skin than his brothers and sisters; indeed, he looked very out-of-place with all of the sandy-haired, mousy-looking children. He wondered why that was.

Harry pushed Albus forward. "Al, this is Aidan Finch-Fletchley; he'll be in your year at Hogwarts. Why don't you make friends now?"

"Why do you have two last names?" Lily asked; it wasn't mocking, she was just curious that way.

"Because my stepdad has two last names," Aidan mumbled, trying to squeeze back between his parents.

Laura smiled at Lily. "Two years away from Hogwarts, I'm sure?"

Lily nodded, but her usual sweet smile flickered a little at the reminder that she was not yet attending Hogwarts.

"My brother has a son who's going that year, too. Keep an eye out for Peter Madley!" Laura smiled wider, then her attention was caught by her youngest son. She slapped his hand; he was picking his nose. He looked to be about five or six years younger than Aidan, the oldest. "Morgan, you put that finger in your nose again and you're getting a wand on your backside, you hear me?"

Morgan held up his other pointer finger. "Ky use dis finger?"

Justin cleared his throat to distract from his youngest child's embarrassing behavior. "Forgot my introductions! Aidan, this is Albus Potter—" Aidan's eyes widened in shock and flew not to Albus, but to Harry; "—Albus, this is my son, Aidan. Hopefully you two could get to know each other this year!"

Albus smiled and held out a hand. "Albus Severus Potter," he said formally. "Nice to meet you."

Aidan smiled back finally as he extended his own hand and shook Albus's. "Aidan Anderlin Fallon Finch-Fletchley."

James snorted.

"That's rude, James," scolded Ginny.

Justin actually visibly relaxed now that one of Harry's children had done something wrong, as if relieved that his children were not the only ones who misbehaved.

"We've still got a lot of things to do," said Justin. "Kids slow you down at an exponential rate, you know?"

"Oh, I know," laughed Ginny. "I grew up with six brothers."

"But I'll see you at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, then," finished Justin. "Let's catch up then, good? It's been too long!"

"Agreed, sounds good," said Harry. "Good luck with all your kids! Do you have one turning eleven every year from here on?"

"We've got Aidan going to Hogwarts this year, and Aaron, Lauren, and Ellen make it four straight first years," answered Laura, "then Morgan two years after Ellen." Morgan waved hello; there was something yellow-green on his pointer finger.

"Lily, you'll be in the same year as Lauren, then," said Ginny.

"Lily Luna Potter," said Lily, holding out her hand to Lauren, clearly mimicking Albus. "Nice to meet you."

Lauren smiled and shook Lily's hand brightly. "Lauren Maudalyn Finch-Fletchley, nice to meet you too!"

"The more people you know, the more fun school will be!" beamed Justin.

"Ever notice," muttered James out of the corner of his mouth to Albus, "how long it takes adults to leave even when _they've already said goodbye?_"

Indeed, it still took about five minutes for them to leave; Justin was telling a thrilling story about his escape from the Snatchers almost twenty years ago, and from the way he was telling it, it seemed he was well practiced in reciting it. Finally they acknowledged the fact that they really did have to go, spent another two minutes talking, then left.

"Can we go now?" groaned James.

"All right, but we're not going straight home," said Ginny. "We've still got to visit Uncle Lance, remember?"

James moaned even louder and stomped flat-footed forward with his head tilted back at the ceiling and his mouth agape. "He's not even our real uncle! Why do we have to visit every living person with red hair?"

Albus raised an eyebrow—this morning, James had been really excited to go see Uncle Lance. His bad mood from being separated from his friends had not lifted.

Harry leaned over to Ginny as they walked over to the exit fireplaces along a side street. "What relation is Lance to us, again?" he whispered in his wife's ear; Albus could still hear him, though. "James has a point. I can never remember."

Ginny had to think for a moment, too. "He and my mother have the same great-grandparents."

"Wow. That's going a while back."

"Yes, but I believe he was closer to Gideon and Fabian, Mom's brothers," continued Ginny. "He ended up having to take care of Muriel, his grandfather's cousin. Remember Muriel went a little crazy towards the end? She kept thinking Lance was his grandfather, because they had the same name… You can't blame him for wanting a different taste of the family than the one Muriel left in him."

Finally, amidst all the people leaving, the Potters got to the front of the line of fireplaces, and they all cast the powder in the flames and called, "Dillied Alley!"

O

Dillied Alley was much smaller than Diagon Alley, and much less grandiose in appearance, but it still felt like an enjoyable place to be. One could lose track of time very easily here; there were lots of cute and quiet out-of-the-way shops. Some stores had items for much lower prices than they were offered at Diagon Alley, and Albus's mother, always the bargain-hunter from growing up in a very frugal household, often chose to do her shopping here rather than in the hustle and bustle and expense of the more popular Diagon Alley.

They stopped to get ice cream (the best in the world was at Darcy's Dairy Deluge) and then headed towards the much smaller, but much neater, branch of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes that occupied this corner. It was run by the Weasleys' distant cousin, Lance Rutherford.

They stepped through the door (this one had not been rigged by ink) and Harry called into the shop, "Lance! Where've you gotten to?"

The back door burst open, and Lance, with his Weasley red hair (though he wasn't technically a Weasley) bounded out of the door and gave all the members of the family a big hug. "Ginevra!" he said. "Harry! James! Albus! Lily! Thank you all so much for coming!"

James seemed to be on the verge of asking for free stuff, but a look from Ginny silenced him immediately. She'd known him too long.

The back door opened again, and out trotted Ron, Hermione, Rose, and Hugo. Albus grinned with delight, then ran and hugged Rose first—she was always the cousin to whom he was closest—and Hugo hugged Lily—they had a similar relationship. Then everybody exchanged hugs with everyone else, some pairs hugging twice after forgetting who they'd already hugged, and dove deep into conversation.

"Oh, Ginny," breathed Hermione. "I don't know how I'm going to go through with this; how did you ever let James go when you sent him off on his first day?"

"I had to pry her off," responded James before Ginny could answer.

Albus could tell that another viciously boring adult conversation was going to start, so he let his mind and eyes wander about the room, imagining getting James with some of this joke equipment as revenge for the Invisibility Ink in Diagon Alley. There weren't as many options here as in Diagon Alley, or the shop in Hogsmeade that he had visited a few times, but there was still some pretty good merchandise here, like fake textbooks that were blank and instead provide snide commentary on the teaching abilities of the professors, or quills that add self-insults to whatever you're writing.

He vaguely heard the adults' discussion in the background. Lance was asking Aunt Hermione a question.

"So what's going on for you this winter?"

"You mean, besides my job?"

"I mean, in the upcoming 2018 Winter Wizarding Games!" thundered Lance. Albus's attention was caught, and he turned to see Lance holding up his wand and running in place like the Muggle who lights the torch in the Muggle Olympics, after which the games had been modeled.

Hermione laughed and brushed some hair away from her face. "Oh! Ha ha… No, I don't think so…"

Lance's eyes bugged out of his head, as if she had just informed him that she didn't think very highly of breathing.

"But—But you took silver in the Singles Dueling Championships last summer!" he sputtered. "You almost got gold, too, against that guy who's taken the championship the last three years in a row—Decagon, was that his name? He even said in an interview that you were the toughest match he's ever had. Why wouldn't you go back for gold?"

"I'm extraordinarily busy," said Hermione, scratching the back of her head and staring at the counter. "And I have a terrible feeling that this wave of work is going to continue deep into next year, and possibly next decade. I'll have to come back as a ghost to take care of everything."

"Ah," said Lance knowingly. He nodded. "The Statute of Secrecy problem, eh?"

Hermione heaved the deep sigh of someone who is buried in work and has no way out in the foreseeable future.

"That's the one," she said. "I might take some time off if it was normal work, but this isn't just something to do with me, or a few other people. The entire world will be affected by this."

"Can you imagine what would happen to the Muggles if we told them?"

"I don't like to think about it," mumbled Hermione. "I talked to my parents about it, too. I mean… both of them have been dentists forever. Dentists, gone—most people would pay to get their teeth magicked. Repairmen, gone—just get a friend to yell '_Reparo._' Garbage plants, gone—a Vanishing spell would do that. Not to mention that hundreds of years of blame are going to come crashing down on wizards—where were you during Muggle wars? While people were starving? While children were homeless? If the Statute is undone, I swear, it'll be the worst mistake in Wizarding history."

They were starting to talk politics, and Albus was bored again. He finished his ice cream while trying to find something here that he hadn't seen in the other shop, but he didn't find anything. So he just waited until enough time passed that his parents said they had to get back to prepare for Albus's birthday dinner.

"Take any two things you want, each of you kids!" added Lance as they were leaving, as he always did.

"Oh, Lance, that's way too much!" protested Ginny as she always did.

"I insist, I insist!" responded Lance as he always did.

As James and Albus each grabbed something sufficiently mischievous, Harry warned them, "I better not hear about you using any of this stuff at school, okay?"

"Of course not," said James, batting his eyelashes as he slipped a third piece of merchandise into his pocket, a spider-shaped object called a Knee-Knocker which, when placed on the back of a victim's knee, rendered them unable to use their legs for a decent amount of time unless it was taken off.

Albus listened in as his mother turned to his father and said, "You know that telling them no is just going to want to make James do it more, don't you?"

"You know, I'm kind of hoping for that," answered Harry. "And I'm kind of hoping Al crosses some lines, too, he's too obedient for his own good. Don't you remember being that age? These kids are children of the Potter and Weasley families… they're all going to need a healthy level of rebellion."

"You're answering the letters from school, then," muttered Ginny.

O

All of Albus's cousins were at his birthday dinner—Bill had traveled back with George to stay in England for the day, because though his extended family had so many children that their birthdays were happening almost every other week, he always came back for any of his nieces' or nephews' important eleventh birthdays. Any others, he still tried as hard as he could to be there at a time fairly close to their birthdays, but couldn't always make it. He was, however, always there on the exact day of an eleventh birthday. Albus liked his Uncle Bill a lot—Aunt Fleur annoyed him a bit, though; she was the doting aunt who didn't know when to stop embarrassing him and pinching his cheeks. Albus wasn't as close with his Victoire and Dominique, his eighth-veela cousins, as he was with the others, because they were older; their brother Louis was closer to James's age and the two were pretty tight.

Uncle Charlie was just as well-loved as Uncle Bill, and he was known for giving the best presents. He didn't have a wife or kids, though. Uncle Percy was incredibly dull and patronizing, even if he was Minister of Magic, but his daughters Molly and Lucy couldn't have been more opposite. They made fun of him at every opportunity behind their backs. It was also cool that Aunt Audrey, Molly's and Lucy's mother, was their only Muggle aunt. Uncle George was crazy, Aunt Angelina was awesome, and Freddie and Roxanne were really cool cousins. Aunt Hermione was the nicest and Uncle Ron was the funniest, and Rose and Hugo were reserved but fun to hang out with. They were all there for Albus's party, and the festivities left him so tired that when they all left at sundown, he immediately changed into his sleepwear, flopped down on his bed, and fell asleep.

O

He walked to the front of the hall, where the Sorting Hat, a mean-looking giant hat with a snake coiled around its brim, waited menacingly for him.

He stepped past all the tables, which had become all Slytherin tables, and looked up at the hat nervously; it grinned widely when it saw him, then opened its mouth and whispered, "_Ssssssss…_" as if waiting for him to put the hat on so that it could finish the name of the House that Albus was going to be sorted into.

Everyone around him joined in, "_Ssssssss…_" as he walked past hundreds of people, all making the same hissing noise, then suddenly he looked back up and he was thousands of rows away from the Sorting Hat; he ran for the hat, desperate to hear his fate, but the hat was moving away from him just as fast as he was running for it, and the sounds of hissing were diluted by cackles and jeering from the students, who all turned into giant hissing snakes—

He woke up sweating so badly that his forehead was wet, but his pillow was wet where his eyes had been, too.


	3. To Hogwarts

_**On re-reading this chapter like four months after writing it, some of the characters seem a little Gary Stu-ish and Mary Sue-ish. I hope not, because they're certainly not fantasy-fulfillment characters; there are very important and specific reasons for their construction which extend through the entire series. Now just seemed like the best time to introduce both of them. Long story short, they are absolutely NOT here just to be "cool" characters. I promise. :) Though it may take 3 to 5 more books before their role becomes clear.**_

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

TO HOGWARTS

O

No birthday, no Christmas in his recorded memory, had gotten him this excited. He leapt out of bed so fast that he knocked his curtains off the wall onto his bed and hit his dresser as he ran out of the room, setting all of the above on fire.

Albus screeched to a halt in the family room, the back of his messy hair aflame. "Hogwarts!" he shouted, jumping up and down. "Hogwarts!"

"Today's the day, isn't it?" laughed Harry. "All right, then. Maybe you can go. We still haven't decided."

"What?!" yelled Albus, before realizing his father was joking with him. He looked over at the clock to see how much time was left before they could go.

James appeared silently behind Albus and slipped a Knee-Knocker onto the back of Albus's left kneecap; as Albus turned around to prance back to his parents, he suddenly fell flat on his face.

"James!" shouted Harry as James laughed his head off and Albus peeled off the Knee-Knocker. "Not on the best day of his life, James. You fell flat on your nose, Al; do you need an _Episkey_?"

Albus shook his head no, and grinned stupidly with his hand over his nose. "Hogwarts!" he shouted again, as if he was only capable of speaking one word at a time from excitement.

"Yes," said Harry. He checked his wristwatch, which was old as the hills but still operating. "We'll get going in about an hour."

"An hour?!" moaned Albus. "But that's… that's so far away!"

James pretended to cry. "It's like a whole sixty minutes away!"

"Shut up," said Albus, but he grinned as he gave James a little shove.

"Don't worry," said James. "Isn't that a good thing? Now you're another hour from being landed in Slytherin like we both know you will!"

It didn't matter how much of a joke James was making of it when he said it. Every time he said it, Albus was flooded with fear. It started in his forehead and leaked down until all of his body felt numb.

"Tone down the Slytherin jokes, James, it's not a bad house," said Harry, concerned for the wrong reason.

"Just saying…"

Albus had made it perfectly clear until his seventh birthday that he was worried about his inability to do magic. About two years after that, though, he'd developed a new fear: the fear of being sorted into Slytherin when he finally got to Hogwarts. He'd heard so many terrible things, and he didn't want to be associated with their stigma, or worse—become part of it due to his immersion.

It all depended on the Sorting Hat's choice.

Harry was too busy inspecting the Knee-Knocker to notice that Albus had become much less jubilant about heading to Hogwarts. He threw it in the garbage bin; a little flame popped up as the Knee-Knocker was incinerated, and then he went to fetch his daughter out of bed so that breakfast could get going.

Albus barely ate any of the breakfast that was served; his parents chalked it up to excitement. Albus wished they understood so that he didn't have to say it; he would never admit in front of James that this was a real fear of his.

When his father was looking, Albus tried as hard as he could to look like he felt, so that his father might think to have a separate word with him before they left; Albus was never left in worry after his father talked to him. But Harry was distracted by another emotional display—Lily had broken down into tears about not being able to go to Hogwarts.

She'd been upset before, but had always managed to hold herself back, because she knew Albus was going to stay home—now, though, she was facing an empty house, and hadn't taken the prospect too lightly.

"Oh, honey," said Ginny softly as she rubbed her daughter's back while Lily cried into her shoulder. Harry glanced back to make sure his wife didn't need help, and then stepped outside to pack the car. "Hugo will visit all the time. His only sister is leaving, too."

"I h-h-hate being the y-youngest!" sobbed Lily.

"I was the youngest of seven children," said Ginny. "I know how you felt. I watched my brothers leave every year since I was born. You'll have exactly the same amount of time at Hogwarts as they have, and you're waiting exactly as long. It'll go by faster than you think."

Finally, Lily was calmed enough to leave with them. Ginny's warning certainly helped: if Lily couldn't hold it together, she wasn't coming with them to say goodbye.

"Car's all packed," said Harry, jogging back in. "We… _all_… ready to leave?" He stressed the word _all_, and looked from Lily to Ginny, who nodded.

"Then let's go!" yelled James, whooping and throwing a fist in the air, which did nothing to assist Lily in holding back her anger of not joining in the fun.

The three kids scooted comfortably in the back seat. Harry adjusted the rear-view mirrors and backed out of the driveway. They had to drive places every once in a while to appear like a normal family—after all, the neighborhood in which they lived was mostly Muggles. The Potters and the next four families down the road, the Dunbars, the Maddens, the Feldmans, and the Youngs, were the only Wizarding families in the whole of Furlong's Notch. The Potters' neighbors on the other side, the Dempseys, were Muggles. They occasionally had to have their memories altered, because (as Albus was surprised to find out) small children don't normally catch fire in the Muggle world, or propel themselves onto the roof from the ground, and seeing these things was apparently a fairly big deal.

As Harry pulled passed the Dempseys' house, Mr. Dempsey waved over to them, and Harry slowed to a stop, rolling down the window without touching the button; thankfully, Mr. Dempsey didn't notice, but Ginny still gave him a hard jab in the side.

"Evening, Harry," said Mr. Dempsey. "Mind if I borrow your lawnmower before you head out? I hate to ask, but mine just broke down and we're having the family over tonight…"

"No, of course I don't mind, Hank," said Harry. He got out of the car and jogged back to his driveway; he ran into his garage. However, Ginny surreptitiously pointed her wand at the Dempsey's open garage, and before Mr. Dempsey could follow Harry into the Potters' garage (which contained nothing but some broomsticks, several owls, and a live grindylow in a tank), the mower sitting in his own garage sprang to life.

"Great Scott!" shouted Hank. "It's amazing the way things just happen to fall into place when you're there to help, it's like magic!"

Harry glanced at Ginny, but she shook her head. Harry climbed back into the car and continued their drive to King's Cross.

"We'll rearrange his head on these matters only if he really needs it," said Ginny. "We don't want to cause too much damage to him."

"This darned International Statute," grumbled Harry. "The Dempseys are just the nicest folk. It would be so much easier, and so much healthier for their minds, if we could just tell them. It's such a shame that the complications of a global revelation would be so disastrous. A revelation of the Wizarding world to Muggles? All hell would break loose."

"Our predecessors made it incredibly difficult for the Statute to be overturned," said Ginny. "I would have liked to live in a time before the Statute. I'd like to hear what kinds of things our ancestors were thinking that made them decide to put such a lock on that eventual decision."

Politics… again… Did adults ever talk about anything interesting? Albus rested his head against the right rear window and watched things go by. Were adult Muggles more interesting? He'd have to ask Aunt Audrey.

But his parents stopped talking about boring things pretty quickly. Albus thought it was possibly because they wanted to talk to their children, instead of amongst themselves, in the final hours before the departure for the lengthy school year.

"Albus, how're you feeling?" asked Harry.

"A little nauseous," answered Lily before Albus could say anything.

"Oh, that'll be the Muggle travel," said Ginny. She pointed her wand at the road through the windshield. "_Glisseo_." She kept her wand steady there, and the road smoothed a little. Albus was grateful; he had been feeling a little sick, too. He'd thought that it was nerves, but even if it was, the jostling he was getting from the car was not something that was helping. Harry continued.

"So, Albus, I asked you how you were doing? This is a big day for you."

"It is a pretty big deal," said James. "I mean, you only get sorted into stinkin' Slytherin once!"

Reignited nausea and cold sweat swept back over Albus, combined with fury at the effect James knew he could have on his little brother with a few simple words.

"Cut it out with the negativity against Slytherin, James, I mean it!" growled Harry; once again, he was mad at James for the wrong reason.

"You cut it out with the yelling at me for it!" said James hotly, throwing himself against the back of his seat with his arms tightly crossed. "You keep saying, 'It's not a bad house, it's not a bad house!' That's just because of the SINGLE brave Slytherin guy you keep talking about, the one you named Albus after. Name five other decent Slytherins, Dad!"

"I can do that," replied Harry coolly. "Even though I don't have to prove anything, I'll still do it. One: Regulus Arcturus Black. He was the first to discover Voldemort's secret and he tried as hard as he could to help take Voldemort down, sacrificing his life in the process. Two: Horace Slughorn. He wasn't flawless, but, I mean, he _dueled with Voldemort himself_ to protect the students of Hogwarts during the battle there. Three, Helio Wilcox, your Headmaster at Hogwarts! He was a Slytherin and he still fought against Voldemort, repeatedly refusing offers from the Death Eaters to join them. And when his own _wife_ was discovered supporting the Dark Revival with Gallen Ingot, he _dueled_ her. It takes far more courage to stand up to loved ones than it does to stand up to our enemies; a great man told me that once. Four: Hugh January, our friend from Luna's shop. Three of his fingers were cursed off by Fenrir Greyback. He doesn't tell many people how it happened, so don't let anyone know I told you: He appeared suddenly when Greyback was trying to round up some Muggle-born wizards on the run, and got a few of Greyback's men; but Greyback got the better of him and ran. He'd been tracking Greyback, because Greyback killed… killed his son." Albus started; he had no idea there was that much sadness in the story of a seven-fingered man he caught a glimpse of in a store. "I still can't believe we haven't found Greyback yet. It's like he just vanished off the face of the earth. Anyway, fifth… hm… ooh, you've got me here, I really have no idea! How about, I don't know, _ADELINA NELSON?_"

James's jaw dropped. "Adelina Nelson was a Slytherin?"

"A Slytherin and a Parselmouth!" responded Harry. "The brightest Slytherin, they say, since Salazar himself. I had the great privilege of tutoring her some of the time. I don't, I suppose, have to tell you what she did to earn her place in the right side of the history books? Or does her being a Slytherin make her suddenly unworthy to be mentioned?"

James muttered something about not asking for this big argument, and having just been teasing. From a cage in the trunk, Flibley gave a hoot that sounded more like a cough.

Albus was on the right side of the car, so he was able to see his father turn to his mother and mouth, "_Good thing he only asked me for five. I can't think of any more._" Ginny laughed and punched him on the arm, taking her wand away from the windshield as they stopped at a red light with a video camera perched above it.

Albus continued to watch the scenery fly by out the window, quickly become bored and wondering how Muggle kids could ever entertain themselves in a car like this. He was silent all the way until they reached London.

"Almost there," said Ginny, turning around in her seat and grinning.

As soon as she turned back, James turned to Albus and whispered, "_Almost in Slytherin!_"

"I WON'T BE IN SLYTHERIN!" Albus shouted, making Harry jump and almost lose control of the car.

"Calm down, you two!" shouted their father. "Albus, there's no sense worrying about it. I have a strong feeling you'll be in Gryffindor, but either way, you'll just have to wait and see what the Sorting Hat's choice is, because worrying about it isn't going to change the outcome." Harry still didn't realize just how great and sincere this fear was for his son.

They pulled into a parking space, and extracted their things from the trunk. Albus went through the process as if he were in a dream; barely concentrating, simply doing, full of excited anticipation and apprehensive dread.

He took Flibley and Thoebl out of the trunk rather aggressively, and the owls hooted and tittered in indignation, continuing that way as they trotted towards the station with their trolleys.

Lily had been presented with too much thinking time in the car, alone with her thoughts of how she was not yet going to Hogwarts. As she followed them towards the station, and the reality of her siblings' departure became even heavier, she burst into tears again, and Harry hung back to soothe her. "It won't be long, and you'll be going too."

"Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go _now_!"

People were eyeing the trolleys with curiosity, most of them interested in the owls. They endured countless smothered laughs and raised eyebrows until they finally were in sight of the barrier between platforms nine and ten which, though Albus had traveled through it twice before in saying goodbye to his brother, seemed as solid as ever.

"Let's find some kids of Death Eaters for you to be friends with," said James softly out of the corner of his mouth to Albus. "They'll be your Housemates when we get to Hogwarts, after all!"

"Stop saying things like that!" Albus said. "We both know that's not true!"

James could sense that, whatever Albus said, he was still worried. He raised his voice. "Dad said Slytherin isn't a bad house! So why are you worried about the fact that you're going to be in Slytherin?"

"I _won't_! I _won't_ be in Slytherin!"

Ginny turned her head. "James, give it a rest!"

"I only said he _might_ be," said James, grinning at Albus. "There's nothing wrong with that. He _might_ be in Slyth—"

Ginny's eyes burned for a fraction of a second, daring him to go on, but James declined to continue as they arrived at the barrier. James glanced over his shoulder, gave a look of practiced cockiness at Albus, and then grabbed his trolley from Ginny. He ran at the barrier, and in a second, he was gone.

Now Albus could say the things he would have said in the car if James hadn't been there. "You'll write to me, won't you?"

"Every day, if you want us to," said Ginny.

Albus's face threatened to heat up, as he pictured himself getting a letter every single day while his friends pointed at him, laughing, calling him a mama's boy. He responded quickly. "Not _every_ day. James says most people only get letters from home about once a month."

"We wrote to James three times a week last year," said Ginny, and Albus was immensely relieved.

"And you don't want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts," Harry put in. "He likes a laugh, your brother."

His parents stood on either side of him, and Lily held Ginny's hand as they pushed the second trolley forward. Unable to control the reflex, Albus winced as they reached the barrier, but there was of course no impact. Instead they emerged onto platform nine and three-quarters, fogged over by the white steam billowing from the scarlet Hogwarts Express. James was nowhere to be seen; he had a habit of disappearing like that when it was supposed to be family time.

"Where are they?" asked Albus. He wanted to see Rose, Hugo, Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione before he left, but the train was leaving pretty soon and he couldn't see them; he was getting nervous. They started walking down the platform, Albus craning his head to look around everywhere for a group of four.

"We'll find them," said Ginny reassuringly.

The vapor was so dense that it was hard to make out any faces, really, and Albus couldn't see how they were even going to locate the train.

As Uncle Percy's voice drifted through the air, saying something about broomsticks, Ginny nudged Albus and said, "I think that's them, Al."

Somehow, they'd managed to locate their cousins. Four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the last carriage, still not completely in view until the Potters pulled right up next to them. "Hi," said Albus in relief, and Rose beamed at him; she had already gotten dressed in her school robes. The adults started talking, and Albus and Rose discussed how often they were going to write home or get letters from home.

They tuned in for a moment to Lily and Hugo, who were excitedly discussing which House they would be sorted into when they finally went to Hogwarts.

Ron interrupted. "If you're not in Gryffindor, we'll disinherit you," he said, "but no pressure."

"_Ron!_"

Lily and Hugo laughed, but Albus and Rose, about to discover which House they were going to join, were slightly more worried by that statement.

"He doesn't mean it," said both of the mothers at the same time. Meanwhile, the steam thinned momentarily, and Albus saw Ron gesture over, saying something to Harry. Albus looked and saw a pale, very blond boy with a pointed chin, looking their way, standing in between his parents. The father gave a brief nod in Harry's direction; Albus wondered if the two had been friends at Hogwarts or something.

"So that's little Scorpius," said Ron under his breath, and Albus suddenly realized who the father was, remembering the details from his own father's stories. He laughed a little at having thought they were friends. Ron was still talking: "Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brains."

"Ron, for heaven's sake," said Hermione with an expression that Albus couldn't discern. "Don't try to turn them against each other before they've even started school!"

"You're right, sorry," said Ron, but he continued anyway. "Don't get _too_ friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood."

"Hey!"

James reappeared, apparently having already loaded his belongings. His eyes were wild.

"Teddy's back there." He pointed over his shoulder, breathing heavily. "Just seen him! And guess what he's doing? _Snogging Victoire!_"

He gazed up at the adults, evidently disappointed by the lack of reaction.

"_Our_ Teddy! _Teddy Lupin!_ Snogging _our_ Victoire! _Our_ cousin! And I asked Teddy what he was doing—"

"You interrupted them?" said Ginny. "You are _so_ like Ron—"

"—and he said he'd come to see her off! And then he told me to go away. He's _snogging_ her!"

"Oh, it would be so lovely if they got married!" whispered Lily ecstatically. "Teddy would _really_ be a part of the family then!"

"He already comes round for dinner about four times a week," said Harry. "Why don't we just invite him to live with us and have done with it?"

"Yeah!" said James enthusiastically. "I don't mind sharing with Al—Teddy could have my room!"

"No, you and Al will share a room only when I want the house demolished." He checked his watch. "It's nearly eleven, you'd better get on board."

"Don't forget to give Neville our love!" Ginny told James as she hugged him.

"Mum! I can't give a professor _love_!"

"But you _know_ Neville—"

James rolled his eyes.

"Outside, yeah, but at school he's Professor Longbottom, isn't he? I can't walk into Herbology and give him _love_…"

He shook his head, in disbelief that his mother would ask such a foolish request, and he aimed a kick at Albus for apparently no reason.

"See you later, Al. Watch out for the thestrals."

"I thought they were invisible?" Albus choked. "_You said they were invisible!_" He wasn't particularly worried about them—the school wouldn't have them pulling the carriages if they were that dangerous—but was he _supposed_ to keep an eye out for them? How could he watch out for them if they were invisible?

James laughed, begrudgingly let his mother kiss him, hugged his father quickly, and then jumped onto the train. Albus didn't look to see if he was waving; his head was still full of thestrals and Slytherin. It was a moment before he realized that his father was talking to him.

"…nothing scary about them. Anyway, you won't be going up to school in the carriages, you'll be going in the boats."

Ginny kissed Albus good-bye as he pieced together his father's words in his mind; apparently he didn't have to worry about thestrals, but he was still worried about Slytherin. And he still couldn't bring himself to tell his father how worried he really was.

"See you at Christmas," his mother said.

"Bye, Al," said Harry as Albus hugged him. "Don't forget Hagrid's invited you to tea next Friday. Don't mess with Peeves. Don't duel anyone till you've learned how. And don't let James wind you up."

Albus made his decision as Harry finished—this was the last he'd see of his father until after he was sorted already, and he wanted to let his father know how he felt.

"What if I'm in Slytherin?"

Harry seemed to understand that it was the moment of departure that brought out this real fear. He crouched down and began talking quietly.

"Albus Severus, you were named for two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew."

Albus knew this already. One good Slytherin having existed didn't ease his trepidation as much as he'd hoped his father would be able to. "But _just say_—"

"—then Slytherin House will have gained an excellent student, won't it? It doesn't matter to us, Al. But if it matters to you, you'll be able to choose Gryffindor over Slytherin. The Sorting Hat takes your choice into account."

"Really?"

"It did for me," said Harry.

Now this was something that Harry had never mentioned before, and Albus was flooded with intense gratitude for his father's words, and for himself for having gathered up the courage to ask. Courage—that was a Gryffindor trait, and even if this didn't really count as real courage, it was at least a good start.

Doors were slamming, and Harry seemed content with the wonder he had gotten to show on Albus's face. Albus jumped onto the carriage, and Ginny closed the door behind him. Students were hanging from the windows nearest them. A great number of faces, both on the train and off, seemed to be turned toward Harry.

"Why are they all _staring_?" demanded Albus as he and Rose craned around to look at the other students.

"Don't let it worry you," said Uncle Ron. "It's me. I'm extremely famous."

Albus, Rose, Hugo, and Lily laughed. The train began to move, and Albus's face suddenly blazed with excitement. Harry walked alongside the train, still waving until the train turned a corner some time later, and Albus set off to find a compartment.

He had jumped onto the train very late, and every compartment into which he peeked was full. He thought about what his father had mentioned to his mother—apparently, this was a record number for students attending Hogwarts. His father said it had to do with everyone "getting busy" right after the war ended, but Albus didn't know what that meant; he hadn't asked, in case he had been eavesdropping on something he wasn't supposed to hear.

"Albus? Hi!"

His name was called by an unfamiliar voice; Albus turned to see Aidan Finch-Fletchley, the somewhat dark-skinned boy from Diagon Alley almost two months ago, waving hello to him as he disappeared into a compartment. Albus followed him, relieved to have met someone he knew at least a little bit. Rose followed behind Albus, but changed course; maybe someone called her name, or maybe she didn't feel like being the only girl in the compartment.

There was a boy with blond hair already there, as well as a very pale brown-haired boy with eyes the exact color of his hair. Both looked like this was their first year as well. Theirs was the only compartment he'd seen that wasn't full, and yet his addition to the group made only four. He expected that they would be joined shortly by other wanderers, but there was no one else in the aisle of the train; it seemed like everyone was settled.

"Hi," said Albus, stretching out a hand to the blond boy; the brown-haired boy stared out the window, unreadable in whether he was interested in making friends. "I'm Albus."

"I'm Alec," said the blond boy, shaking his hand. Albus looked over to the brunet to see if he could get the boy's name; at the same moment, the boy looked away from the window and stared into Albus's eyes.

"I saw you in Ollivander's," he said.

Albus hadn't looked around much in the store that day. "You did?"

"Yeah," he said. "You were holding up the line forever."

Albus reddened slightly, but he grinned. "Oh! I think I remember seeing you."

"I'm Eftan," he said, and held out a hand. "Eftan Griffiths. You're Albus Potter, Harry Potter's son?"

Albus felt a dormant anger from being known as the son of Harry Potter, rather than being known as Albus Potter, but he suppressed it; he didn't want to be angry at someone who might become a friend of his in the near future. "Yeah. I am."

Alec's jaw dropped as he stared at Albus with his cool, extremely light hazel eyes, which were wide open.

"You're Harry Potter's son?" he said.

"As far as he's told me," replied Albus.

"Wicked," whispered Alec.

"I'm Aidan," said Aidan, reaching to shake Alec's hand and then Eftan's. "Nice to meet all of you!"

"You know Albus?" asked Alec, referring to when Aidan called him from outside the compartment. "Do you know Harry Potter?"

"Well, no, not really," answered Aidan. "My dad does."

Alec was nonetheless deeply impressed by Aidan's connection. "What does your dad do?"

"Muggle Relations in the Ministry of Magic," said Aidan. "Yours?"

"My dad's an Auror," said Alec proudly. "What about yours, Eftan?"

Eftan reddened and turned back to the window. "He's a plumber," he mumbled after a brief pause. "I'm Muggle-born."

"You're not upset about that, are you?" asked Albus. "Muggle-borns are no different from anyone else. Did someone say something rude to you?" He knew, from some of the things Aunt Hermione said, that some people could be very stupid about this sort of thing.

Eftan shook his head no, but continued to stare out the window.

"What House do you think you're going to be in?" Aidan asked the compartment at large. "My dad was a Gryffindor, he died fighting Gallen Ingot before I was born. My mom is Hufflepuff. My stepdad's Hufflepuff too, but I don't think that has anything to do with it. I feel like I'm more like my dad, I'm guessing I'm a Gryffindor."

"My mom was a Gryffindor, and my dad's Ravenclaw," said Alec. "I'm dimmer than a dead fairy, though, so I'll probably be Gryffindor too!"

"All my grandparents, both my parents, my brother, and all seven of my cousins so far are Gryffindor," said Albus, and now that he said it, the idea of him being in Slytherin seemed ludicrous. "I think I'm headed there with you guys."

"I don't even know what the Houses are," said Eftan, rubbing his eyes and yawning—or was he pretending to yawn, so that the rubbing of his eyes looked like he was sleepy? His hand came away slightly wet.

Aidan dove into a lengthy explanation of each of the Houses and their defining attributes, sounding as though he had memorized _Hogwarts, A History_. Albus was reminded strongly of Rose.

Aidan had just about finished explaining with Eftan listening raptly when the door opened and a very old woman pushed a trolley laden with sweets past them.

"Anything from the trolley, dears?" she asked in a very small voice.

Albus pulled out the small amount of money that his father had given him for sweets, and invested it all in Chocolate Frogs, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and Cinnamon Sugar Tonguetinglers, which spread out to cover every taste bud on your tongue with intense flavor. Alec and Aidan purchased a few things themselves, but Eftan continued to stare out the window.

The first Chocolate Frog card he opened made him huff and roll his eyes—his father stared up at him from the card as he placed it on the seat beside him.

"Can I have that?" Alec asked slowly, clearly trying not to give away exactly how excited he would be if Albus said yes.

Albus flicked the card over to Alec, who let out a little squeak of delight, and then Albus passed a Chocolate Frog case to Eftan.

Eftan smiled softly, and Albus knew that he was really grateful—he must not have had any wizard money. He took the frog and muttered his thanks with the soft smile still on his face. He opened the frog, and Albus took out some Bertie Bott's beans, getting eleven great, normal flavors in a row—pepperoni pizza, lemonade, chocolate cheesecake, cola, spicy sausage, fried dough, cherry-vanilla yogurt, iced coffee, scrambled eggs, steak, and butterbeer. It was a new record, until he got a hair-flavored bean and decided to take a break before things evened out. He kept trying to scrape his tongue, thinking that there was actually hair in his mouth, so he pulled out a Tonguetingler to get the taste out.

Meanwhile Eftan was staring at his Chocolate Frog card.

"Who's Add-uh-line-uh Nelson?"

"Add-uh-_leen _-uh," corrected Aidan, and Albus was once again inexorably reminded of Rose. She and Aidan should get together sometime. "Adelina Nelson was an Auror who…" He paused himself; apparently he was aware that he had a tendency to be a know-it-all. "Well, you can just read the card."

Eftan took this to mean "you can just read the card aloud," and he did so.

"_Adelina Nelson was the youngest of nine children from a Muggle family. She is one of two known Parselmouths of recent times, the other being her nephew, Sylvester, her only other close magical relative. She died at the young age of nineteen, but in a manner that would permanently place her among the greatest witches and wizards in history: She defeated the immensely powerful Dark wizard, Gallen Ingot._

"What's a Parselmouth?" asked Eftan, finished.

"It means you can talk to snakes," answered Albus. "It's a really rare ability. I wonder how a Muggle-born got it?"

"Isn't your dad a Parselmouth?" asked Aidan. "My dad said—"

"He _was_ a Parselmouth. He lost the ability when he destroyed the part of Voldemort's soul that was clinging to him."

Eftan looked around. "Is soul-clinging something that normally happens in the world of magic?"

"Nah," said Alec. "And don't worry, you'll catch up quickly."

Each of the kids from wizarding families then took turns talking about people they knew from Muggle families who had gotten accustomed immediately. Albus talked a lot, since his father and aunt had both come to Hogwarts without any magical experience. Then, when Eftan was satisfied that he might not do so horribly in school after all, he started asking what life was like for kids from wizard families, and he talked a bit about how his life was like growing up in a Muggle household.

"My parents said that when I was about six months old, things were already happening that they couldn't explain. Someone named Mr. Earle came to our house to explain the situation to my parents—he told them that I was born a wizard. My parents said that they thought he was joking, so he proved that magic was real by pointing his wand at the kitchen table, and it started dancing a jig. Then he waved it around like a conductor's baton and all the furniture started dancing… They said it was like something right out of a Disney movie."

"What's a movie?" asked Aidan.

"What's a Disney?" asked Alec.

Eftan seemed very reassured at the fact that he may have been in the dark for everything in the world of magic, but everyone else had no idea how anything in the Muggle world worked. As he was in the middle of an explanation on how cellular phones worked, the door slid open again and a bold-looking, well-tanned, black-haired, gray-eyed boy of about their age waltzed into their compartment with four other people who looked like first years: a small, wiry black boy with very short hair and very large eyes; an even smaller runt of a boy with longer brown hair and brown eyes, who was wearing an expression that suggested that coming in here was the most frightening thing he'd ever done; a very small but very pretty girl with strawberry-blonde hair and green eyes that looked a lot like Albus's; and a taller girl with shining black hair and the most interesting eyes Albus had ever seen. One of her eyes was an unremarkable blue color, but the other was a shocking purple—not a dark blue, not a blue-violet, but a real, vivid purple. It was the color to which Albus would have pointed if he was asked to identify purple on a spectrum.

The girl with the fascinating eyes was first to introduce herself.

"Hi!" she said excitedly. "I'm Mia. Mia Moon. Are you guys in your first year?"

They all nodded, staring at her eyes. She didn't seem to mind; she must have been quite used to it by this point.

"So are we, we're going around getting to know everyone in the first year," she said.

"I'm Holly," said the other girl, stretching out the tiniest hand Albus had ever seen, shaking his hand first, and then everyone else's in the compartment. Her sweet, innocent-looking face was almost perfectly round, and there wasn't a blemish on her shining pale skin. Her white blouse made her entire upper body remind Albus of a fresh snowfall. She had very thin eyebrows and very long eyelashes. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm Jonah," said the scrawny black boy, also shaking everyone's hands.

The boy who'd led them in, with the black hair and confident stance, was next to introduce himself. "I'm Sylvester," he stated proudly. A snake of about two feet in length was draped around his neck; Albus realized with a jolt that it was alive, and slowly coiling around his shoulder. "Delighted!"

The tiny brown-haired boy was still in the doorway, looking around as if hoping that other people might pop in and introduce themselves to further delay his own introduction. When no one came to the rescue, he gulped, clearly not enjoying the spotlight, and said tremulously, "I'm… I'm Exo."

If Albus had been given a name like Exo, he wouldn't have hesitated in introductions, he thought. That was an awesome name. Aidan cleared his throat and started the introductions on their side. When Albus gave his name last, he did not include his surname, but he was discovered anyway.

"Albus?" said Exo. "You're not… Your dad isn't Harry Potter, is he?"

"Really?" roared Sylvester happily. "I'll be! That's wicked!"

Mia grinned, and Holly raised an eyebrow. Jonah nodded, as if giving his approval that Albus was allowed to be awesome now.

Albus glanced towards Eftan to see that the brunet was looking back and forth between Sylvester and his Adelina Nelson Chocolate Frog card. Then his eyes followed the snake which was coiling around Sylvester's lower arm, and Albus came to the same conclusion that he was sure Eftan was thinking.

Eftan didn't say anything, possibly embarrassed about being wrong, so Albus asked for him.

"You've got a snake there… Is that your pet? Are you a Parselmouth?"

Sylvester nodded, and then suddenly out of his mouth came a shocking hiss, which caused the snake to weave in between his fingers faster and faster; it then slithered up his arm, spiraled around his neck, and settled on top of his head. The audience gasped in appreciation—apparently, not even the friends he'd brought to their compartment had seen him do that.

"Yeah, Adelina Nelson was my aunt," Sylvester said. "And Exo here is the headmaster's son!"

Exo reddened and backed away ever so slightly.

"Really?" said Aidan. "That's just awesome!"

"Yeah, we guys think we're a Slytherin bunch," said Jonah. "My sister was in Slytherin… Sylvester is a Parselmouth, so he's, like, guaranteed… and both of Exo's parents were in Slytherin. But you never know!"

"Mia and I think we're in for Ravenclaw, we've both had lots of close relatives there," said Holly. She sat down next to Albus, and his cheeks heated up—why did his cheeks heat up? That was interesting.

After a short chat, their new friends left, and the four boys continued talking and eating far more sweets than their parents would ever have allowed, to hold themselves off for the feast, which would take place right after the Sorting.

Albus smiled contentedly as he ripped open another Chocolate Frog, with a card that pictured a wizard named Finnigan. It was so nice to be able to think of the Sorting without his every limb freezing at the prospect of becoming a Slytherin. He was sure now that he would be in Gryffindor. It was almost a given.

Finally, the skies outside started to darken, and it was time to change into their school robes. Albus's excitement was mounting further and further as he imagined joining the Gryffindor table to thunderous applause, his brother no longer able to tease him with his talk of Slytherin… Then he imagined beating James in Seeker tryouts as a first year, laughing in his face… Then he imagined Professor Wilcox, the headmaster, handing the House Cup to him personally, making the announcement that Albus was so awesome that Gryffindor House should win the Cup based solely on the fact that he was there… Hogwarts was going to be the best years of his life.

And finally, the train rumbled to a stop, and the students clambered off the train in hordes, and Albus was almost jumping about with glee, a stupid little grin on his face.

"First years? If you would follow me, please… First years, here, come here now…"

The voice was not as loud as any of the jabbering students, but it was rather high and still carried cleanly through them. Albus, Aidan, Alec, and Eftan wandered over, finding a tall, reedy man with a thin mustache, holding a lamp up above the crowd. He smiled when he looked at Eftan.

"Eftan Griffiths," he said, and Eftan jumped when he was addressed by name. "Haven't seen you since you fit in a bread basket. I came to your house when you were six months old, you were already doing magic."

Eftan seemed to be flattered that a wizard from the school already knew who he was, but also confused as to how the man recognized him, if the last time they met was before Eftan could even remember. "Are you Mr. Earle?"

"I am Mr. Earle," he said, smiling. He stood up to his full height again—a good six and a half feet—and yelled, "First years, here please! First years come this way." Then he bent back down. "Faustulus Earle. I make it my business to remember the aura of every kid I meet, so I can check up on them when they finally get to Hogwarts."

"Aura?"

"First years! This way! Yes, auras; hard to explain, really—YOU! Small kid following really tall blonde girl! Are you a first year? This way, please! Eftan, if you're having trouble adjusting to wizarding life, you'll come see me, all right?"

Eftan nodded.

"Good. I may not see you again for a while with time to chat—gamekeeping is a busy job here—but if I don't, I hope you have a fine Hogwarts experience!" He turned to another student, a curly-haired girl who squeaked in surprise when he addressed her. "Hello, Miss Watson! Haven't seen you since I could count your age on the fingers of one hand!"

"Auras?" asked Eftan again, turning to his friends with a puzzled expression.

"I heard about that from my mom," said Aidan. "She said that Mr. Earle can read auras, and it's really useful for identifying intruders and stuff. He has a wicked memory."

All around them now, first years were shuffling down a narrow path while Earle continued to yell instructions. Albus followed alongside Aidan, Alec, and Eftan.

"I hope we're all in the same House, wherever we are," said Eftan. They all nodded and grinned.

"And there she is, good old Hogwarts. No more than four to a boat!"

The pitch-black path had just opened up onto a great black lake, and Albus grinned at the sight that he knew would soon become as familiar as his own home: the castle of Hogwarts, perched on the top of the mountain on the other side.

Albus climbed into a boat with his three friends from the train. He looked over to his left and saw Rose sitting with Holly, Mia, and a dark-haired girl with wide eyes that looked slightly bloodshot, but a wider smile. To his right was a boat containing Sylvester, Jonah, Exo, and the curly-haired girl that Mr. Earle had called Miss Watson. Albus looked around to watch his other schoolmates climbing into the boats and he did a double-take, because it looked like three of the exact same person were getting into a boat—triplets, maybe?—followed by Scorpius Malfoy. They were saying something about Slytherin.

"Everybody in?" shouted Earle over the ruckus. "All right, everyone? Yes? Then… FORWARD!"

The boats all started to glide across the glassy surface of the lake, and nobody was talking anymore; they were all staring up at the castle, craning their necks further and further back as they got closer and closer to the cliff on which the castle stood.

"Heads down," said Earle in a gentle voice that nonetheless echoed across the lake and back in the total silence. There was a large movement as everyone bent obediently over while the boats passed through a curtain of ivy, and continued traveling along a dark tunnel that fed directly under the castle.

Albus looked around, and tried not to laugh in the silent tunnel; some kids still had their heads down.

Earle noticed this as well, and said softly, "You only had to put your heads down for the ivy… you can pick your heads up now." Four or five kids finally looked up as the boats crunched against a shore of pebbles in a kind of underground harbor.

They all exited the boats and followed Earle's lamp up a rock tunnel, hearts pounding with excitement so loudly that Albus was sure he could hear the heartbeat of the people next to him as well as his own. After a fairly lengthy walk, they reached a flight of stone steps just across a small patch of grass in the shadow of the castle. Albus and his new friends were some of the last people to come out of the tunnel, and as he looked around, the entrance to the tunnel sealed itself with a dull _thud_. He hoped no one was late.

The oak front door towered above all of them, and Earle looked around, apparently performing a head count. Then he smiled and winked at them, turned around, raised his fist, and knocked three times on the castle door.


	4. The Sorting Hat's Choice

CHAPTER FOUR

THE SORTING HAT'S CHOICE

O

A most familiar voice issued from the door as it opened.

"Evening, Faustulus, are all the first years present and accounted for?"

"They are indeed," said Earle. "You may do with them as you wish."

Neville Longbottom stood tall and well-built, clad in scarlet robes, smiling down at the first years, nodding congenially at Albus and Rose.

"I will take them from here, then." He turned and gestured with his hand that they should follow him, and the jittery pod of children followed him into the enormous entrance hall.

Albus took in the sights—the flaming torches on the walls, the incredibly high ceiling, and the beautiful marble staircase, which had some pieces blasted off in the Battle of Hogwarts; the broken steps had been left as they were, as tribute to the battle.

Word seemed to have spread that Harry Potter's son was here, and more and more of the first years were whispering and looking sideways at him, thinking themselves discreet. Their quiet voices were now joined by drone of voices from what Albus knew was the Great Hall to their right—the older students had already arrived.

They did not enter the Great Hall, but a small, empty chamber off the hall. Most of the students were nervous, and stood very close together as Professor Longbottom cleared his throat and raised his voice to address them.

"Welcome," he said, throwing his hands in the air as if hugging the collective class, "to Hogwarts! Soon we'll begin the start-of-term banquet, but first, the Sorting! You will be put in one of four houses: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Hufflepuff. You will think of your house as your family—you will have classes with your house, eat with your house, sleep and spend time in your house common room. Your Heads of Houses are responsible for your successful endeavors at Hogwarts, but also your discipline, and rule-breaking will not be tolerated at Hogwarts. Rule-breaking will lose your house a number of points in accordance with the severity of your transgressions. However, if you work hard and succeed, your triumphs will gain points for your House. At the end of the year, the house with the most pints is awarded the House Cup, a great honor! The winner of the House Cup last year was Hufflepuff, and no matter what you hear about a certain Euan Yodelhop and the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, it was the combined efforts of everyone in the house which brought Hufflepuff to victory. I hope that each of you will make great contributions to whichever house becomes your home.

"The Heads of House are as follows: I am Professor Longbottom, Head of Gryffindor house; I also am Professor of Herbology. The Head of Ravenclaw house is Professor Desulgon, a quite agreeable young man who has just joined our staff this year as the only professor amongst our ranks who was sorted into Ravenclaw house. He teaches Transfiguration. The Head of Slytherin house is our esteemed Professor Valon, our resident Potions master, and the head of Hufflepuff house is the wonderful professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Westerling. Just as you must listen to all of your teachers, you must all listen to the prefects of your house as well. You will meet your prefects soon, but of course, you must be Sorted before you meet them.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in the Great Hall. I will alert them to your arrival and then fetch you when the rest of the school is ready—doll yourselves up as needed, calm yourselves down—there's nothing to worry about—and please wait quietly for my return. I will be back momentarily." He left the chamber.

Most of the students had relaxed in quite a visible manner at the news from Professor Longbottom that they had nothing to worry about, and as they were told, they waited quietly.

Or, they _were_ waiting quietly, until several boys shouted out and half the girls screamed. Two dozen ghosts or so had just streamed in through the wall, looking around the group of first years, greeting them, sometimes shaking hands (the people who had their hands shaken shivered violently and looked very unnerved).

"Greetings, first years, welcome to Hogwarts," said a ghost, whose appearance matched Albus's father's description of Nearly Headless Nick. "I am Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, and I was a Gryffindor in my day, I hope to see many of you there! This is the Fat Friar" —a pudgy little amiable ghost monk waved hello— "the Bloody Baron" —a horrible-looking ghost in robes stained with silver blood was staring at them, not waving— "and the Gray Lady, who has only recently become comfortable enough to reveal herself as the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw herself."

"Call me Helena," said a smiling young woman.

"They are the ghosts of Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Ravenclaw houses, respectively, and I am the ghost of Gryffindor house, of course," said Nick. "Happy Sorting to you, and we shall see you around for the next seven years!"

Other ghosts flew forward, as if to introduce themselves, but Professor Longbottom returned and humbly requested their presence in the Great Hall for the beginning of the Sorting Ceremony.

"Form a line, and follow me into the Great Hall to begin the Sorting!"

Albus was all grins as he trekked through the door, one of the first in line, and entered the Great Hall through its magnificent double doors, taking in the sight that he had dreamed about for years as his brother and cousins attended the school.

Thousands of candles floated in midair over four long tables laden with glittering golden plates and goblets, under what looked like the night sky but which Albus knew to be the ceiling of the Great Hall, bewitched to look like the sky outside; it was done so well that it looked like the walls of the Hall simply melted into the night, without a ceiling there at all. Professor Longbottom led them up and instructed them to form a line with their backs to the teachers' table, facing the rest of the hall, and Albus was glad for the chance to continue soaking in the enormous, mind-blowing Hall.

Then Professor Longbottom placed a small four-legged stool in front of the middle of the line, slightly to Albus's left, and placed a pointed wizard's hat on top of the stool—it was patched and frayed and extremely dirty, and completely unremarkable for anyone who didn't know what it was capable of. Glancing left and right, Albus saw several people who were obviously from Muggle houses, raising confused eyebrows as to what this hat could possibly be for. Albus glanced a few people to his right and saw Eftan there, looking much paler than he had on the trip over. He couldn't see Alec and Aidan from where he was positioned.

Everyone in the Hall stared at the hat in silence, until finally, a rip near the brim split open and the hat burst into song.

"_I've seen ten centuries' worth of kids,_

_Of every birth and name,_

_And though the faces differ_

_One thing always stays the same._

_Every witch and wizard_

_Has a path before them set,_

_A path they've had since childhood,_

_but not discovered yet._

_I've seen them brave and smart and kind—_

_all qualities to treasure—_

_and though they're there in everyone,_

_They're there in different measure._

_It usually takes a lifetime_

_Till you finally can tell_

_Which qualities I've named would best_

_Describe a person well._

_However, we've but minutes_

_To decide where you will go._

_We cannot wait a lifetime,_

_As the hungriest of you know!_

_The answer is more simple_

_Than just waiting till you're dead:_

_The Sorting Hat is here to make_

_A House-Call on your head!_

_Courageous blood was highly prized_

_By Godric Gryffindor,_

_So if you're daring, dashing, bold,_

_That house is what's in store._

_And if your brains are prevalent,_

_You'll go to one of these:_

_The house of Rowena Ravenclaw_

_Where book-smart's sure to please;_

_Or clever Salazar Slytherin's,_

_Where wits and instinct rule!_

_To Helga Hufflepuff,_

_The hardest workers of our school._

_Now if you're feeling queasy,_

_Thinking, "There's no house for ME!"_

_Don't be worried, take it easy._

_Try me on and you will see!"_

Applause rang out from the school as the Sorting Hat finished its song, and it bowed to the four tables and then kept still. Albus clapped hard, quite at ease, confident in the house into which he would be Sorted. His eyes, scanning the crowd, caught his brother and cousins at the Gryffindor table, grinning at him and Rose.

Professor Longbottom now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call you up, please sit on the stool and place the Sorting Hat over your head, and you will be sorted," he said. "Acromere, Arthur!"

A boy stumbled forward, clearly having confirmed his dread that he would be the first called. He slid the hat down over his head with shaking fingers, and waited.

The Hall was completely silent. Thirty seconds passed, and then a minute, and Arthur was compulsively wiping his sweaty palms on his robes. Two minutes had passed before the hat finally shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

There was an immediate uproar from the Ravenclaw table, second from the left, and Albus saw several people exchanging coins between tables, apparently having placed bets on the first House to be named in the Sorting. Arthur hurried to the table and was greeted by the fist-pumping prefects.

"Adonax, Tobias!"

Tobias stepped forward a sight more confidently than had Arthur. He placed the hat on his head and waited until about a second later, when it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" The shout was echoed by jubilant yells from the Gryffindor table, which broke Tobias's face into a full grin.

Albus was surprised that it took such a short time for that decision, considering how long it had been for the first. Some of the older students were already bored from the first decision, and sat with their heads in their hands, waiting for the meal to start.

"Alamandrine, Sylvester!"

The boy from the train swaggered forward happily, and placed the Sorting Hat on his head, which yelled "SLYTHERIN!" before he even took his hand off. He picked it back off with glee and traipsed over to the Slytherin table, second from the right, which also clapped hard.

It took five more people just to get out of the A's, and Albus was starting to zone out. His eyes wandered, and he suddenly realized that there were two spots missing in the High Table: The chairs on both sides of the headmaster's were unoccupied, and one chair at the end was empty. One, he assumed was Neville's, so then two people were missing. He wished he knew who everyone was, already, or that there were name cards in front of their places or something. He wondered who was the person who couldn't make it.

"Baxter-Thornton, Jonah!"

The black boy who visited them on the train jogged up to the front from the very end of the line, and slipped on the hat, which yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!" rather quickly.

He seemed genuinely surprised at this, and Albus remembered him saying on the train that his sister was in Slytherin… and suddenly, fear began to creep back into him. Siblings didn't always have to be in the same house… and here in front of him was a precise example of a Gryffindor/Slytherin split, right in the middle of a family…

He was finally snapped out of his troubled thoughts by the biggest cheer yet, so loud it seemed to tear the Hall in half: "Brestleton, Tad" had just become a Hufflepuff—the first Hufflepuff of the day, even though a dozen students had been Sorted before him. The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheers, and Tad ran there quickly, turning red.

Unexpectedly, Professor Longbottom also started turning red, and he began making incoherent noises. "Br… Brz… Burr-zoo-nedge…skee? Er…" He raised his voice. "Ebenezer B-R-Z-U-N-E-J-S-K-Y? I really should have asked you beforehand, I'm sorry…"

"Brew-ness-key," mumbled a boy with a beet-red face, who clearly wanted nothing more than to be invisible for the rest of his life.

"Brew-ness-key? Thank you, I'm so sorry. Anyway… Brzunejsky, Ebenezer!" shouted Professor Longbottom, rubbing his forehead in embarrassment and trying not to smile at the unfortunate surname. Ebenezer walked forward and jammed the hat on his head, eager to block out everyone else's soft laughter.

Ten seconds later, the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" and Ebenezer ran off to the Gryffindor table at once, trying to hide himself amongst the other first years, where he was joined shortly by "Carlen, Candice." Then, after "Crosenbend, Callista" and "Cyrosta, Danielle" became Hufflepuffs, "Cyrosta, Dorothy" became a Gryffindor as well. Another instance of relatives being separated. Albus started to sweat.

"Doge, Jamie" became a Hufflepuff, and then "Finch-Fletchley, Aidan" was called, and Aidan stepped forward confidently. Albus recalled Aidan's convictions that he would probably be in Gryffindor. If he wasn't in Gryffindor… then Albus, even with his own strong convictions, was also unsafe…

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat after about twenty seconds. Albus groaned and resisted the urge to claw at his hair.

"Glissendale, Holly" was the next person that Albus recognized: the pretty, strawberry-blonde girl from the train, who still made Albus feel sort of tingly. She became the third Ravenclaw in a row.

"Greengrass, Archie!"

A very pale, black-haired boy stepped forward from right in the middle of the line, and placed the hat on his head. It was about fifteen seconds before the hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" and he took it off, looking utterly bewildered, trotting to the Ravenclaw table in shock.

"Greengrass, Ashton!"

Eftan, standing a few places to Albus's right, had almost stepped forward. Albus knew why: he probably thought his last name, Griffiths, would be right after Greengrass—except there was another Greengrass. Eftan looked even paler from having thought he would be next. The other Greengrass boy stepped forward, also from the middle of the line.

Albus did a double-take—so did the entire Hall. It looked like the exact same boy had just walked to the stool and put the hat on. It must have been the triplets he'd seen talking with Scorpius. Maybe Archie had been sure he would be Slytherin. More proof that you could never be sure before the Sorting Hat made its choice.

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Greengrass, Sebastian!"

Eftan had almost stepped forward again, and he threw an exasperated look to the ground.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Albus noticed that, although Archie and Ashton Greengrass looked exactly the same, Sebastian had some noticeable differences—whereas they had very round faces and very small noses, his nose was slightly more prominent and so was his chin. He was also slightly taller, though this was harder to tell. Albus wondered if they were even triplets at all, or maybe the first two were twins with a brother who was very close in age, or even a cousin.

"Griffiths, Eftan!"

Eftan finally trudged forward solemnly. He placed the hat on his head very slowly, and sat completely still, not even twitching a finger.

Four minutes, four full minutes, passed in complete silence. Albus wondered what Eftan was thinking. Finally, the hat nodded, and it took in a deep breath; so did Eftan.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Albus was actually slightly relieved. Now, if he was indeed landed in Slytherin, at least he'd have a friend already there.

Now that Eftan had ended the six-person-long Ravenclaw streak, the clapping was much quieter, and he felt bad for "Harowa, Wendy," who didn't get as much applause as her predecessors, and wandered off to the Gryffindor table looking slightly unhappy. He zoned out again, until Professor Longbottom yelled, "Malfoy, Scorpius!"

A bit of laughter echoed through the Hall at the name.

"SLYTHERIN!" shouted the hat as soon as it touched his head, and Scorpius walked impassively to the Slytherin table. Professor Longbottom consulted his scroll again.

"Mallagora, Whitney!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"McKinnon, Alec!"

Alec slid the hat on awkwardly. A second later, it declared, "RAVENCLAW!"

Alec looked bewildered, and again, Albus thought about how Alec had said he'd probably go to Gryffindor; again, Albus felt slightly sick. And now they were in the M's… they were approaching his name.

"Mirabatch, Kolby!"

A boy with very scraggly brown hair stepped forward nervously, and the hat declared him a Gryffindor, then moved on to "Moon, Mia," the girl with the stunning eyes that he'd seen on the train with Holly. The hat gave her about a minute, and shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

Albus ran quickly through the alphabet in his head. They would finish the M's, and then the N's, the O's, and _then_ the P's… He wished time would move faster…

"Potter, Albus!"

Whispers broke out, and Albus blanched. He instantly took back his wish that time would move faster, but as there were no other Albus Potters stepping forward, he knew he would have to go eventually. There was no delaying it. He moved what felt like someone else's legs, but they were carrying him to the stool as he watched himself moving from the ceiling, even though he felt like he was made of lead, and the room was really cold but he was sweating. He took a deep breath, picked the hat up off the stool, and placed it over his ears.

"Ah," said a soft, soothing voice directly in his ear. "What have we here? Another Potter? Strange… your brother was quite easy… You're more like your father, aren't you? Difficult… and I sense the same thirst…"

_Thirst?_ Albus thought.

"Yes, a thirst," said the hat, apparently reading his mind. "Your father had a thirst to prove himself too. He walked into the world of magic to find himself famous, and, no matter how hard he might deny it, he always had an underlying urge to prove himself, show everyone that he wasn't just a famous name, make himself known for something that he had control over. But mostly, he had an aversion to failing."

Albus waited for the hat to continue.

"You're actually different in that respect, then. You want to prove yourself, make yourself known as YOU, and not as your father's son, and I know just the house that will help you on the way to greatness."

_Not Slytherin,_ Albus thought. _Not Slytherin._

At this, the hat actually let out a laugh that was not contained to his ear; it echoed throughout the great hall, and Albus felt every inch of his body heating up. Others were laughing, too, apparently concluding that the hat had found something highly amusing in Albus's head, but probably making extremely inaccurate assumptions as to what that was.

"That's just what your father asked," said the hat. "But if that is your choice, then it can't be helped. You seek the kind of recognition that will come from hard work and determination, the traits of a Hufflepuff, but your mind and courage are even stronger. Overall it comes down to the house in which I believe you will perform best, and from what I've just seen, I don't think there can be any contest… GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was bellowed for the whole hall to hear, and the Gryffindor table exploded. Albus's legs were completely useless from relief, and he charged at the Gryffindor table, hoping he wouldn't collapse before he arrived, and when he looked up, his heart was suddenly warmer than it had ever been: James was standing up, and clapping the hardest out of everyone.

He heard the name "Pullman, Parker" called, but he wasn't watching the Sorting; he was too busy shaking the hands of every Gryffindor near him. It took him about twenty seconds to sit down, but when he looked up, Parker was still in the process of approaching the stool, supported by Professor Longbottom.

"Do you think he's almost passed out from nerves?" Jonah wondered aloud.

It certainly seemed like it; he placed his hands on the stool first to steady himself, then Professor Longbottom helped him sit down and placed the hat over his head before he looked up. The hat took a while to decide for him, too, and then put him in Gryffindor.

As the hat was taken off, Professor Longbottom called "Quinn, Abigail," but then left to escort Parker to his seat at the Gryffindor table. Albus moved down to make room, and he understood why Parker needed help when they got closer. He had milky white, unmoving eyes: Parker was blind.

He heard the Slytherin table clapping at Abigail's arrival, and settled into his seat to watch. The Sorting was so much more pleasant to watch now that he was sitting down at the Gryffindor table. He watched the line of nervous first years gradually shrink.

"Vaughn, Ava" was called, and Albus got a small shock. She was the dark-haired girl that Albus had seen in his cousin's boat, with Holly and Mia, but her hair wasn't black, as Albus had thought in the darkness. In fact, it appeared to be a very dark green. As she lifted the hat over her head, Albus caught sight of a little bit more webbing between her fingers than normal for a human; her features were also sharper, and her throat slightly longer. She must have been part Mermish.

She was declared a Slytherin, and then "Waters, Scott" became a Gryffindor before "Watson, Emily," the curly-haired girl he had seen talking to Earle before they entered the boats, became a Hufflepuff, and then there were only four first years remaining: Rose, Exo, a fierce-looking black girl, and a timid-looking redheaded boy (though his hair had nothing on the color of the trademark Weasley hair).

"Weasley, Rose!"

Rose stepped forward confidently, nowhere near as worried as Albus had been, and she sat down on the stool, waiting eagerly. Some people were counting under their breath for each first year, seeing who took the longest; in this battle, it appeared that Rose won. Someone across from Albus stopped counting at a hundred seconds in, and someone a couple seats down stopped reached two hundred and fifty before anything even happened. Finally the hat straightened up, cleared its—hats didn't have throats, what was it clearing?—and yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

However confident Rose looked stepping up, she was immensely relieved when it was finally over. She collapsed in a chair near Albus and leaned over towards him.

"The hat said I was just like my mom," she said. "It took him _so long_. I could feel him trying to pick through my brain like there was a finger in there!"

"Wilcox, Exorian!"

The man in the headmaster's chair, Exo's father, straightened up a little and smiled as Exo walked nervously towards the stool. The dead silence was painted by irritated sighs and the rumbles of empty stomachs. He didn't seem at all nervous about his Sorting—strange, Albus thought… he seemed like an extremely nervous person when Albus met him. Perhaps he was confident in what he said on the train, that he'd likely be in Slytherin?

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

If Exo was surprised, he didn't show it. He walked calmly to the Gryffindor table, which was cheering very loud at having been given the headmaster's son (and probably also that it took the hat much less time to decide for him than for Rose).

The red-headed boy started walking forward before his name was called: "Wingleton, Harry!" Albus laughed; this was the third boy named Harry in his year. He suspected that the boys had been named by parents who wanted their kids to grow up to be like Harry Potter. The redheaded Harry became a Hufflepuff, and then the last girl strode up to the stool.

"Zabini, Jasmine!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

More people started exchanging bronze coins down the tables—there must have been bets on which house would get the last student, too. Finally, the Sorting was over, and people were just about ready to tuck in when the headmaster, Professor Wilcox, stood up, and all fell silent. Right before he did so, Albus looked around, his heart sinking as he noticed something that, in his worry, he had not noticed: He and his three potential friends from the train had, somehow, unfortunately, ended up in all different houses.

"Good evening!" he called, and his voice was filled with genuine pleasure. "I'm so sorry to inform you, but the feast must be postponed for a little while longer."

The Great Hall was immediately filled with groans and cries, and people looked at each other curiously; apparently this had never happened before.

"We are going to do a second round of Sorting," Wilcox said, and intrigued mutters erupted all around the Hall. "It is part of PEEP."

"Peep?" Albus asked.

A second year down the table whispered to Albus, "Professor Wilcox has been trying out a lot of teaching tactics through a program he's set up called the Positive Experiments in Education Plan."

Wilcox was still talking, and Albus tuned back in. "—first year will be paired with a student in their fourth year, who will assist them in any areas necessary: class help, making study habits, class selection in your second year, and career advice in your fourth. You first years will continue this relationship with the same mentor until he or she graduates at the end of your fourth year. Also, at the _beginning_ of your fourth year, you have the opportunity to be paired with an incoming first year; your mentor can also give you advice on how to be a successful mentor yourself.

"We collected the names of student volunteers last year, and have informed the Sorting Hat of who will be mentors. Our esteemed hat quite remembers everyone who's ever been under the brim. You will not have to try our hat on again; it will simply use its memory to find a suitable mentor within your House; in fact, it's already matched you up from when you first put it on. Oh, and I should add, only students who have been mentors can become prefects, due to evident initiative to be role models and leaders."

Wilcox paused to let this sink in, and then he handed Professor Longbottom another role of parchment. The Hall fell into a grumbling quasi-silence.

"Gryffindor first," said Professor Longbottom. "Adonax, Tobias!"

Without further ado, the hat shouted, "OSWALD WATERS!"

Tobias stood up and shook hands with Oswald, who had stood up with him to be recognized, and then Professor Longbottom called, "Andersen, Riley!"

"CONRAD WELLWITZ!"

Albus's eyes began to droop, and his stomach rumbled. He zoned out completely until he heard his name called, sooner than he had thought he would hear it.

"Potter, Albus!"

"GILLIAN GARTRIVE!"

Albus stood up, as the other students were doing when their names were called, and his jaw almost dropped. Gillian's long hair, which fell down almost to his shoulders with the bangs reaching his brow, was not just red—it was vividly red, like freshly drawn blood. He must have changed it himself; no one had hair like that. He had an earring (was this kid really fourteen?) that looked like it must have been made from a small phoenix feather, and his robes were ripped at both sleeves, revealing about two inches of a bright red T-shirt underneath. One word summed it up: _rebel_.

His fellow first year Gryffindor boys sighed in disappointment on not having been assigned this awesome kid, while most of the first year girls, and indeed, half the girls in the room, let out little squeaks. Albus shook Gillian's hand happily, and then sat down again, waiting for further installments.

Parker Pullman was paired with Freddie Weasley, who looked delighted at the joke potential that was presented by a blind first year. Scott Waters was paired with someone named Elliott Oxing, and then…

"Weasley, Rose!"

"JOLENE GANLOCK!"

Jolene looked nice, but Albus had to hand it to the Sorting Hat—this girl looked like just as much of a know-it-all as Rose was.

"Wilcox, Exorian!"

"LOUIS WEASLEY!"

Louis had let his blond hair grow longer over the last summer, garnering almost as many sighs from the girls as Gillian. He shook Exorian's hand with a warming smile. It was completely the opposite of his cousin's malicious grin at the opportunities granted to him from being paired with a first year. Exorian seemed rather relieved.

The Ravenclaw table was next. Albus didn't pay much attention, except for noticing that Alec was paired with a nice-looking athletically built guy named Tyler Emmett. He also paid attention when Holly's name was called, though he didn't know why. Her mentor was Petra Sykora, and Albus, still not quite understanding why, stored the information somewhere in his brain.

When it was Slytherin's turn, Eftan was paired with a mean-looking kid named Simon Smokehart, and then Hufflepuff's turn came around and Aidan was paired with a boy who had the stupidest grin Albus had ever seen; his name was Trent Berry.

Then, finally, _finally_, the Sorting was over, and the feast was about to begin. Professor Longbottom took away the Sorting Hat, and Wilcox cleared his throat and started to talk again.

"A few more announcements… but that can wait until after the feast!"

There was a round of applause at this.

"Tuck in, everyone! Today is a day to stuff yourselves so much that you can only waddle back up to the dorms."

The plates were instantly filled with so much food that Albus swore he saw the middle of the table sink at least an inch. He was so hungry that he started eating before he was even done filling his plate. The food was absolutely delicious—rivaling even his mother's best home-cooked meals.

When he and his fellow first year Gryffindors had eaten enough, they started chatting, learning more about each other. Their first topic was family, and people kept shooting furtive looks at Albus, as if certain that he would break out any moment with a boast about his father.

Jonah and Exo were the only first year boys in Gryffindor with four magical grandparents. Four of them hadn't even known they were wizards until their eleventh birthdays, when Faustulus Earle had come to their houses to explain.

"My parents were confused as to why he didn't come earlier," said the boy who'd had to pronounce his name for Professor Longbottom. "I'd been doing magic since I was four, see, and they always suspected there was something weird about me, but Mr. Earle still didn't come until I was eleven, he said that's policy."

"What's your name again?" asked the boy with very scraggly brown hair.

"Ebenezer Brzunejsky," he muttered, turning red again. "You can just call me Eben, though. What's your name?"

"Kolby Mirabatch. Nice to meet you, Eben! And yeah, I know what you mean about Mr. Earle not coming until you were eleven; the same thing happened to me. I was already consciously hurting our school bullies without touching them when I was just nine. I was convinced I had superpowers."

"That's weird," said Albus. "I met a kid on the train who got sorted into Slytherin, and he said that Earle came to his house when he was only six months old."

Kolby and Eben looked surprised, but Jonah and Exo actually stopped their conversation and looked over, shocked.

"Yeah, it's weird, isn't it?" Albus asked the two pure-bloods.

"No, I'm just even more surprised that a Muggle-born went to Slytherin," said Jonah. "I didn't think that even ever happened! Salazar Slytherin refused to let any Muggle-borns into his house, and I thought that the Sorting Hat knew that."

"Even so," said Exo, "it seems like the Sorting Hat should know that he might face some prejudice if he's a Muggle-born in Slytherin."

"Adelina Nelson was a Muggle-born Slytherin," said Tobias Adonax. "But that might have been automatic because she was a Parselmouth. Same with Sylvester."

Albus recalled the Sorting Hat's words in his ear… _Overall it comes down to the house in which I believe you will perform best_…

"I guess we gotta trust the hat," said Albus, and his friends laughed.

Nearly Headless Nick floated over and raised an eyebrow. "I thought I must have missed someone, but no, it's true," he said.

"What?" asked Rose, looking up.

"There are nine new Gryffindor boys, and only five new Gryffindor girls," laughed Nick. "That's as lopsided as I've ever seen it, I must say!"

Albus looked around at the sound of footsteps; Roxanne Weasley was walking down the table. She strolled over to the first years, shook Albus's hand, and clapped a hand on Rose's shoulder.

"Good job, you guys," she said proudly. "Now let's get Gryffindor that House Cup. Hufflepuff's gotten it the last five years in a row, ever since that damn Euan Yodelhop got on their Quidditch team."

Another girl followed her, a girl that Albus had seen visiting at her house on occasion; this girl looked way too muscular to be twelve. Her name was Jeniffer Davis, but she was named after her mother, so they called her "Niffer" to distinguish between the girls.

"New meat, eh?" said Niffer. "Good Lord, they're scrawny, the whole lot of 'em."

"Oh, come off it, we're only a year above them," Roxanne sighed. She turned to a girl with long and curly black hair. "Palila Bell, is it? Your dad was a great Chaser when he was here… do you play Quidditch?"

Palila nodded.

"I know you're only a first year, but you could still probably beat Erika or Harry in tryouts… they're just awful. We're going to have to hope James catches the Snitch in the first minute of all three games or Hufflepuff's gonna be using our brooms to sweep up what's left of us."

"They lost one of the Armstrongs last year," said Niffer with a trace of hope.

"Doesn't matter, they've still got Yodelhop and I hear they've got a new recruit who almost made the team last season, even as a first year." Roxanne and Niffer started walking away. "Amazing. We've got two ridiculously good Beaters, an unparalleled Keeper and a fantastic Seeker, but only one good Chaser, and somehow it's crippling us!"

Rose shook Palila's hand. "Hi, I'm Rose Weasley."

"Pallie Bell, great to meet you!"

Albus tuned in to Parker Pullman and Tobias Adonax, who were discussing Parker's blindness.

"But I thought there were ways to make magical eyes," Tobias was saying. "Didn't Mad-Eye Moody, the Auror, have one?"

"Yeah, you're right, Toby, but he was able to control it because he'd been able to see throughout his entire life," replied Parker. "I was born blind, though. I don't know what seeing is… I can sort of comprehend another sense besides the ones I have, but I still wouldn't be able to use a magical eye without ever having learned to use a normal eye. That's all right, though, I'm an optimist. I like to look at it this way: I'll never get killed by the stare of a basilisk!"

The leftovers then faded away, and so many beautiful desserts appeared that Albus wanted to go back in time and eat less dinner food. Then he decided to take Wilcox's suggestion prior to the feast, and he plunged into the desserts with gusto nonetheless.

Stuffed to the point of bursting, Albus couldn't wait to waddle up to Gryffindor Tower and discover a nice, warm bed there. He leaned against the back of his chair and looked up as Wilcox stood up again. The few scraps that were left of the desserts disappeared.

"I have a few announcements to make, so if you could hold off on the passing out, that would be peachy," said Wilcox brightly. "I'd like to introduce you to not one, not two, but three new members of our staff this year!"

At this, he gestured to his left side, where the seat remained empty. "I would _like_ to introduce you to three new members of our staff, but sadly, Professor Desulgon, who has taken up the Transfiguration post, is attending a funeral for Mrs. Megara Roy, the mother of a dear friend of his. He had informed me that he would be late to the feast; I thought he would be here by now, but he must have been held up, so you'll have to meet him tomorrow, or whenever you have Transfiguration.

"However, I can introduce you to Professor Weasley, who will be taking our Care of Magical Creatures classes, for those of you in your third year or above."

James, Freddie, and Louis all cheered at an unnecessary volume at this; muffled laughter broke out amongst the students. Charlie was clearly trying not to smile, but failing, and he held his hands up to quiet them.

"Those of you in your sixth and seventh years will remember Professor Weasley as the long-term substitute for Professor Henrietta Nesbit three years ago, when she suffered that nasty Molken bite. Professor Nesbit retired as of last year. We are sad to see her go, but happy to see Professor Weasley again! He has consented to fill the post for this year, and possibly next year if we cannot find another permanent replacement.

"Our other staffing change is in the Astronomy department. Unfortunately, we must announce the departure of our Astronomy professor of thirty years, Aurora Sinistra, who has decided to start a family. She has left to teach with her husband, who is a professor at the Katarina Pinzel School of Sorcery in the state of California in the United States of America. We wish her every success in her new work placement, and we'd also like to commemorate the Sinistra family. The Astronomy professors in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have all hailed from her family for four full centuries. In the year 1596, Ophiuchus Black took the post, and was then succeeded by thirteen of his direct descendents. They have all done a splendid job: Since 1599, Hogwarts Astronomy O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. performance rank has not fallen below tenth in the world among all government-recognized schools of magic! This is a remarkable accomplishment, considering that many schools in regions like China and Greece put a notoriously high emphasis on Astronomy. Those are hard shoes to fill. But our new staff member, Professor Obbin, hopes to live up to Professor Sinistra's high standards."

Suddenly, the chair at the very left end of the High Table, which Albus had taken to be empty, was moved; a little humanoid creature stood up on his chair and stepped up onto the table to bow: Professor Obbin was a house-elf.

"Professor Obbin has been well-versed in astronomy since his youth, and has always dreamed of becoming a professor," explained Wilcox. "He is knowledgeable, and has much expertise in his field; I think you will find him a proper fit for the job. But if you older students have any suggestions as to how he could improve his teaching skills, you can always bring them up in class; Professor Obbin has confided in me that he rather misses being bossed around by wizards."

Most students laughed, but Albus noticed that Rose did not look amused.

"And now, I will continue in my announcements. It is my great pleasure to inform you that, starting this year, we will be instituting midyear exams, to ensure that you are sufficiently prepared for the latter half of the year and suitably prepared for your exams at the end of—"

Wilcox did not finish, because half of the students were groaning miserably at the introduction of more exams, and the other half were booing loudly. Wilcox stood and waited for the moans to subside, smiling down at his feet with a guilty look on his face.

When the Hall finally fell reasonably quiet again, Wilcox held his hands up and continued. "It's for your own good," he grinned. "I do heartily apologize, though. I know that more stress is just the last thing our fifth and seventh years were hoping to—"

Again, he was cut off; this time, it was from gasps and screams. An enormous, completely white bird with glowing red eyes had just soared into the room through the open doors of the Great Hall. It had a ten foot wingspan and foot-long talons, a beak filled with sharp, jagged teeth, and a body structure that was far more reminiscent of a reptile than a bird—Albus had seen creatures like this only in old dinosaur books.

The bird soared towards the High Table silently, and lowered itself closer to the ground; first years near the front shrieked and ducked down under the table. The gigantic creature then turned sharply upwards, doing a back flip in midair; during this turn, it transformed smoothly from a bird into a human, the wings shrinking, the feathers receding, clothes appearing, the talons retracting.

A man landed in front of the High Table. He tugged at his white robes to straighten them, and then darted forward and vaulted the staff table like he was performing at a gymnastics competition, swinging his legs over the side and spinning into the chair to Wilcox's left. He gazed out at the students and waved hello; he looked not much older than some of the seventh years. His hair was not just blond, it was white; his skin was not just pale, it was colorless, showing some of the veins beneath his skin; his eyes were so red they almost glowed.

"Ah, here we are," said Wilcox. "This here is young Dalton Desulgon, our Transfiguration professor. He is but twenty years old, and yet already is highly accomplished and well-respected in the magical community; indeed, some people have gone as far as to compare him to Albus Dumbledore!"

Professor Desulgon held up a hand and interrupted with a small cough. "I should let everyone know that the 'some people' who have compared me to Dumbledore were my mother and grandmother; I just said that in the job interview."

Laughs echoed throughout the hall.

Wilcox smiled. "He's a comedian, this one. And quite a resume… Recipient of the prestigious annual Albus Dumbledore Award for Extraordinary Magical Prowess, much younger than all of the eighteen other recipients; celebrated inventor of Frostflame; the first person ever to win the single's _and_ double's Dueling Championships, let alone do it in the same year, _and_ the _youngest_ to win either Championship; and the world's youngest registered Animagus—and history's only known albino Animagus, I might add! What is the name of that reptilian bird-beast into which you can transform?"

"I don't even know what it's called, scientifically," answered Professor Desulgon, "but I assume that it is commonly known as a 'Mother of Merlin,' because that's what everybody screams when they see me."

Albus laughed again; he already could not wait until Transfiguration.

"Anyway, I must continue with the announcements," Wilcox said, but he was grinning lightly. "You'll get better acquainted with Professor Desulgon in your classes! He is replacing Theodora Thigby, who retired just recently, also a very well-loved professor of ours. We wish her much happiness in retirement.

"The forest on the grounds is absolutely out-of-bounds to all pupils, a restriction which will be much more powerfully enforced due to the near-fatal accident which took place there after exams last year; I needn't remind our older students about that, and I would really rather not explain it in detail anyway.

"Magic should not be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. If you are interested in playing for your house team, I would suggest that you contact Madam Duopold as soon as possible so that it does not slip your mind in the excitement of the start of term.

"Congratulations to our new prefects, and our new Head Boy and Head Girl, Aethan Maddox and Cheryl Wood!" There was a smattering of applause, but the Hufflepuffs looked scandalized, and many of them were looking angrily towards the Slytherin Table, or else muttering mutinously to a tall, roguish-looking boy with wild blond hair and an impressive tan, who kept waving them away. _Euan Yodelhop?_ Albus guessed.

"If you are a mentor, you must schedule a mandatory meeting at some time in the second week of term! Any mentor who fails to schedule a meeting in the second week of term will be punished with multiple detentions. If your mentee is, er, being… _difficult_ about it… please bring that up with a teacher.

"And finally…" Wilcox stretched out his arms like he was hugging the entire Hall. "Have a fantastic and fulfilling school year!"

All of the students filed out of the hall to their dormitories. Molly Weasley and the other fifth year prefect, Alexander Davis, whom Albus recognized as Niffer's brother, led the first years up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Got 'em all here, Xander?" asked Molly.

"Then we have them all," said Xander, counting the heads before him; he was at least twice as tall as most of them. "Right, then, I'm Alexander Davis, and this is Molly Weasley; you can call me Xander."

Riley Andersen raised his hand. "Why not Alex?"

"Alex is my dad, I was named after him, and they decided to give me a different nickname. That's the same reason why my brother Christopher is 'Topher,' he was named after my uncle. And my sister Jeniffer is 'Niffer,' because my mom is Jeniffer."

Several of the first years giggled at "Niffer."

"Stay with us, we'll try our best to keep the seventh years from stepping on you," Xander continued. Under his breath, he added to Molly, "I swear we were not this tiny when we got here."

"Everyone's tiny compared to you," said Molly. "Come, now, first years, don't get separated, we'd have to do a lot of explaining to Professor Wilcox if that happened."

The journey to the tower was taken with most of the year in contented food stupor, and all that Albus could think of was bed. But as soon as he entered the common room, and looked around, he really took it in for the first time that he was in Hogwarts, in Gryffindor, about to have probably the best seven years of his life, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be. All the same, he was dead tired, and after a moment's appreciation of the pristine first year dormitory and its nine four-poster beds, he climbed onto his bed without pulling the covers over himself, and he fell asleep within a minute. There would be enough time to get excited about classes in the morning.


	5. Acclimatization

CHAPTER FIVE

ACCLIMATIZATION

O

At breakfast the next morning, they all received their schedules. Albus looked at his excitedly, but was disappointed to find out that today, he had neither of the classes he was most looking forward to—Transfiguration, because of Professor Desulgon, and Herbology, because of Professor Longbottom.

"Are all the first year Gryffindor schedules the same?" asked Eben, glancing over at Albus's schedule.

"I think so," said Albus.

Eben sighed. "I was looking forward to Transfiguration."

"Me too."

He glanced over the rest of his schedule. His Tuesdays and Thursdays looked awful… Fridays looked easy, but that might be because there was an empty slot where Flying would be.

Just as Albus reached something that raised a question in his mind, Kolby asked that question.

"What's 'Acclimatization?' We have it with the Slytherins on Friday."

"No idea," said Jonah, but Exo answered.

"It's a new class that my dad introduced with the mentoring program," he said. "It's only for the first term. It's intended to show us all the different things Hogwarts has to offer, like extra help programs, remedial classes, and how to use the library; stuff like that. I think our first lesson is just designed to help us navigate through the castle."

"That would be a lot more helpful if it was first thing today, instead of the last class of the week," said Toby. "I already know I'm going to get lost on the way to every class."

"Well, that's not the attitude we're looking for!" said a jolly voice behind them.

Wilcox appeared behind them, looking around at all the new Gryffindors; he tousled Exo's hair, and Exo scowled. "Getting all acquainted with each other, I see? Good! I hope your first day here at Hogwarts is a great one!"

He leaned down towards Exo; Albus, sitting next to him, caught the words which Wilcox whispered very quietly into his son's ear.

"You all right? We're at the two-mark…"

"I'm fine," Exo shot back.

"I'm sorry about—" A loud laugh issued from the Ravenclaw Table, and Albus missed a few words. —in Slytherin!"

"So did I…"

"Already? Should I—" Wilcox dropped his voice until it was like breathing, and Albus couldn't hear him at all, especially when more laughs broke out near him down the Gryffindor table. Albus leaned in closer on the pretext of getting more sausages; he was curious, he couldn't help it. He heard another fragment of a sentence from Wilcox: "—manner in which we discussed back at—" Someone dropped their plate, and there was more laughter.

"—embarrass me," mumbled Exo, just loud enough for Albus to hear.

"I promise, I won't talk to anyone," whispered Wilcox, and he clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. Then he addressed the table again.

"I'd like to request a favor from you Gryffindor first years," he announced. "Mr. Parker Pullman? Ah, here you are." He moved down two chairs and pat Parker on the shoulder as well. "Parker here is, as you can understand, unable to take notes in class. He has purchased textbooks in Braille, but he would greatly appreciate if someone here could take up the responsibility of keeping diligent notes, and reading him those notes at times when he wishes to study. Could I have a volunteer or two who would be interested in a job keeping notes? You will be paid for your kindness, of course, and I don't imagine that a habit like good note-taking will hurt your course grades, either. You don't have to volunteer for all seven years, but I would like the same person to stay with the job for at least one year at a time."

"I'll do it," said Exo.

Wilcox flinched slightly.

"What?" demanded Exo. "What, you think I can't take good notes? Just because I didn't enjoy my homeschooling experience as much as—"

"It's not that, Exo," said Wilcox, treading carefully with his words. "You're… you're _frail_. We discussed this. You might miss a good number of classes… you get sick easily. I'd like someone to take the job who doesn't have foreseeable plans to miss any classes, for Parker's sake of having a consistent helper."

"I'll do some," said Rose.

"Ah, thank you, Miss Weasley," said Wilcox, sighing in happiness. "Anyone else want to share responsibility?"

No one spoke for about five seconds. After a bit of thought, Albus decided that taking good notes was probably a healthy practice, and it didn't hurt that the job would pay him. "I'll take his notes, Professor," he said.

"Good boy, thank you!" said Wilcox. "Now, for how many classes would you be willing to ensure that you take diligent notes?"

Albus scratched his ear. "Anything but History of Magic," he answered.

Wilcox roared with laughter. "Yes, yes, I suppose that's understandable… would that be acceptable for you, Miss Weasley?"

Rose shrugged. "Sure."

"Now, you'll be exempted from Astronomy, of course, Parker," said Wilcox. "I hope it doesn't offend you, but I really can't see you… stargazing."

Parker shrugged. "No offense taken."

"So, not including Flying, that leaves six classes of notes. Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Herbology, Potions, Charms, and beloved Transfiguration. Let us flip a coin… Mr. Potter, heads or tails?"

Wilcox was suddenly holding a coin, though Albus had not seen him draw a wand to conjure one. Albus smiled, and said, "Heads."

He flipped the coin and nodded.

"Heads indeed… You may choose first, Mr. Potter, and we'll go back and forth between you and Miss Weasley, selecting three classes each, the notes for which you'd like to be responsible. Mr. Potter?"

"Transfiguration," said Albus without hesitation, and he saw Rose's face show a slight hint of defeat.

"Herbology," she said in retaliation, smirking; she'd known Albus was looking forward to Herbology with Professor Longbottom.

Albus next chose Defense Against the Dark Arts, figuring that it would probably be interesting enough to keep him awake and be able to take notes. Rose selected Potions, and Albus took Charms, leaving Rose with History of Magic; she didn't look nearly as upset as Albus would have been. Obviously, he hadn't taken the class yet, but he'd heard awful rumors about it from James and his friends. He couldn't imagine always staying awake in History of Magic, especially since it was his very first class on every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Parker wasn't going to be the only one asking Rose for her notes.

"Thank you very much, very, very much," said Wilcox. "You'll each receive ten Galleons per term for—"

"_Ten Galleons per term?_" came an indignant cry from Riley Andersen. "You didn't tell us it was going to be that much!"

"Ten Galleons per term for each class," finished Wilcox.

The rest of the Gryffindor boys started clamoring their complaints that nobody told them that so much money was being offered, but Wilcox waved them off with a grin.

"Come, now, I left out the exact amount of payment on purpose," he said. "I needed the note-taker to be someone who wanted to do it as a kindness, not because they were getting money. Parker, if the arrangements aren't working out for some reason, come see me, all right? If it's urgent and you can't find a teacher available to take you, ask the portraits to direct you to my office." He waved goodbye and patted his son on the shoulder again. "Have an enlightening first day, everyone!"

With that, Albus finished his last helping of sausages and left for his first History of Magic lesson, an experience he looked forward to just for the purpose of getting it over with.

O

It was every bit as bad as Albus had expected. Professor Binns had spent about thirty seconds explaining how they would be tested and graded, explicitly ignored a question from Riley Andersen about how he managed to sort and grade papers without a physical body, and then immediately dove into the most boring lecture Albus had ever heard. He zoned in and out, spent half his time wondering when class would end, and spent the other half staring at Rose, wondering how she could will herself to stay awake and take notes on something like this.

Albus was sitting next to Alec; Gryffindor had History of Magic with the Ravenclaws. Alec dozed off almost immediately and had to be shaken awake at the end of class, and hadn't taken in anything. He didn't ask Albus anything about the lesson; instead, he packed his books quietly and shuffled out of the room, slightly pink in the face. All the other Ravenclaws were yawning, but they seemed to have been paying at least a little bit of attention; Ravenclaw house was, after all, noted for its scholarly inhabitants; Albus couldn't help but think that Rowena Ravenclaw wouldn't have liked to see one of her students sleeping through her lesson.

Then again, she'd probably never met Cuthbert Binns. Listening to one of this old ghost's lessons might change her mind.

Next, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Westerling was a young-looking man, but he already had gray hair; his eyes seemed to be gray as well. He walked with a swing in his step and was constantly heard to be humming to himself while he wasn't talking. He seemed to have a perpetual and very genuine smile.

Professor Westerling's first class wasn't too interesting, but he promised that it would become very fun, very soon. For now, they discussed defensive theory, and the kids from magical households were allowed to openly discuss with the class what they knew about the Dark Arts. There wasn't much for Albus to write down in the way of notes. Professor Westerling concluded the class by offering extra credit to anyone who joined a kids' activist group called DDD! (Don't Do Dark!) and dismissed them with no homework. As they walked out, Albus noticed many of the Slytherins, including Scorpius Malfoy, throwing away the DDD! pamphlets without a second glance; probably without a first glance.

Eftan drifted towards Albus as the students filed out into the hall, and walked with him to lunch. "How were your first two classes?"

"History of Magic was excruciating," replied Albus. "But this class looks okay."

"What do you have next?"

"Charms," said Albus. "With the Hufflepuffs. You?"

"Herbology, with the Ravenclaws. Didn't you say your parents' friend taught Herbology?"

"Professor Longbottom, yeah," said Albus. "Ask him to tell the class the story about how he killed Voldemort's snake!"

"Who?"

As Albus held in an exasperated sigh at the fact that Eftan didn't know about the most famous Dark Wizard ever, his attention was drawn to the side as several sixth or seventh year Gryffindor boys smacked deliberately into Scorpius Malfoy, sending him tumbling to the floor, knocking an ink bottle down the stairs.

"What was that for?" shouted Scorpius and Albus at the same time; Scorpius flushed and threw Albus a dirty look.

"Whoa, firstie love," said a particularly nasty-looking older Gryffindor. "I guess baby Potter likes his… _Dark_ meat."

Albus was confused by this, but it appeared to make sense to teenagers, because most of the older students nearby chuckled. Rather than responding, Albus cocked his head to one side, employing his favorite trick to use whenever he was annoyed at his brother; the robe of the older student caught fire. Albus always had a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics; he didn't even need to use a wand for this one.

"Get a closet," the older student sneered. "Or get a Vanishing Cabinet and kill some headmasters. Trust me, Potter, this type's trash. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort."

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," said Albus coolly. "And I guess you like your meat cooked thoroughly."

He gestured to the burning robe, but the older student remained oblivious.

"Harry?" said a particularly unattractive girl next to him. "Your robe's on fire."

Harry leapt up and cursed. He whipped out his wand and extinguished the flame, repairing the damage quickly, and then he narrowed his already tiny eyes at Albus. His wand flicked angrily, and he raised it a little.

"Just because your dad's Harry Potter doesn't mean you can mess with a seventh year and get away with it," he snorted. "Fame isn't everything, baby Potter."

"If fame isn't everything, then why're you putting so much effort into showing off?" said a familiar female voice; Albus turned to see Victoire striding up behind him. "Hey there, cousin."

"Hey," said Albus, relieved at the appearance of backup.

"Maybe you can help me out, Al," said Victoire. "I just learned a really good curse, and I need someone to test it out on. See any troll-brained losers picking on kids half their age?"

Harry stowed his wand and swaggered past Victoire; as he went by her, Albus saw him stick a hand out and give Victoire's backside a squeeze.

There was a _BANG_ and jets of smoke flew horizontally away from Harry's head, which had suddenly turned upside down; his screaming mouth was on his forehead and his eyes rolled around slightly above his chin as he tripped and tumbled down the stairs.

"Huh," said Victoire, a hand to her chin. "That worked pretty superbly. I'll have to remember to thank Griselda for that one."

"Brilliant," said Eftan.

Albus looked around for Scorpius, but the pale-skinned boy was nowhere to be seen. Harry tried to get back up but toppled over again onto his inverted head.

"See you around, Albus," said Victoire. "Let me know if Harry Lussen messes with you again, I'll mess with his head again."

She strode into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that Albus had just vacated, and struck up a conversation with Professor Westerling.

Albus walked down a staircase to the Great Hall with Eftan behind him. "Are you friends with Scorpius?" he asked the Slytherin.

Eftan shook his head. "Nah. Scorpius… doesn't really talk to anyone. He keeps to himself. I'm not sure if it's because he doesn't want to hang around with other people, or if it's because other people don't want to hang around with him."

For the first time, Albus was glad that his father was so famous. It would have been so much worse if he'd had Scorpius's infamous family. He hoped that he could be friends with Scorpius one day, especially if Scorpius currently had no other friends. That dirty look Scorpius gave him in the hallway suggested otherwise, though…

O

During lunch, James congratulated Albus on having infuriated Harry Lussen; James had apparently made it his life goal to irritate Lussen into insanity. This was partially due to the fact that Lussen constantly tried to pick up Victoire, despite the fact that she hated his guts (and especially now that Teddy, whom James liked so much, was dating her), but more due to the fact that James had beaten out Lussen in Quidditch tryouts last year. Lussen had never let it go, accusing Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain Cheryl Wood of putting her friends' cousins on the team before the real talent—Cheryl and Victoire were quite close, but still, nobody could deny that apparently, watching Lussen race James to the Snitch in tryouts was like watching a crippled troll chase a cheetah. Unfortunately, Lussen was still an adequate enough Chaser to stay on the team, which explained why Roxanne was so hopeful for Palila Bell to already be a brilliant Chaser. She hoped that Pallie would kick Harry off the team, an infinitely more embarrassing cut if he lost the spot to a first year. Evidently, no one liked Harry Lussen except his pig-faced girlfriend, Erika Jordan, another Gryffindor Chaser.

James also noted that messing with an angry seventh year was not something he had expected Albus to do immediately upon arriving at Hogwarts. Albus wasn't sure whether he should be happy or concerned that James was proud of him. Congratulations was not what he had expected to hear from his brother on the first day of classes; he expected to hear a few insults, or to get tripped in the hall. His brother was acting pretty civil, in fact, and Albus was the one getting himself in over his head already.

Messing with a seventh year… Now that he thought about it, Albus realized that such an action really was quite out of his character. He thought for a while about what Luna Lovegood had said when he walked in to the wand shop… _It seems you'll require an unusually combative wand_…

A double class period came after lunch, and Albus was acquainted with Paragost Plinky, the tiny Charms Professor. He was shorter than any of the first year students, a trait he attributed to a distant goblin ancestor. Their first class was dedicated to theory, like Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Plinky promised that their next Double Charms lesson would include practicing levitation charms, which got them excited.

Albus knew that the double class periods were twice as long, but sitting through the class itself felt like four times as long; he just wanted to get to work learning spells and how to turn peoples' heads upside-down, and he knew there wouldn't be any of that in Potions class, which he had next. As Plinky finished his speech on why Transfiguration and Charms were separate courses, the bell finally sounded.

Albus walked over to Aidan, who was still putting his things away, and noticed that Aidan had already filled up a foot of notes in tiny handwriting on his Charms parchment. "What in the—? We didn't even talk about anything today!"

"He talked a little bit about the history of Charms as a subject," said Aidan. "And he described the differences between Charms and Transfiguration. I don't want to miss anything that might turn out to be note-worthy."

"God, you and Rose should get together some time," said Albus.

"Rose? Rose Weasley?" Aidan looked around the classroom and saw Rose rolling up a scroll of parchment with even more notes in even tinier handwriting. His eyes narrowed as if challenged.

"Yeah," said Albus. "Believe me, she's bound to be top of our grade."

Aidan tucked the parchment into his bag, and flicked his eyebrows upward. "We'll see."

O

Potions with the Slytherins was next. Albus heard his father telling James two years ago that Potions with Slytherin was the class he always dreaded the most; Harry hadn't told Albus this, probably because he figured it would scare his more timid son.

But Albus didn't feel timid any more. For some reason, ever since the hat had shouted for him to be placed in Gryffindor, he'd had a fire running through his veins. He felt courageous, enough to stand up to a seventh year and even provoke him a little bit. If the Potions master, who was also the Head of Slytherin House, was being biased and rude like Harry said Professor Snape was, Albus would give him a piece of his mind. He now wanted to release eleven years of mischief. It was held back in a shell of reclusiveness, built by a life of keeping a low head to stay out of the way of his easily irked brother.

Lost in thought, he didn't realize that he'd set his sandwich on fire. He shook it out, but in the process, his left sleeve and hair ignited.

"What the heck's going on with you, there?" asked Jonah from Albus's right, picking up a cloth from the table and patting out Albus's hair.

"I don't really know," said Albus, batting at his left sleeve. "I thought that uncontrolled underage magic mostly stopped when you got a wand."

"Maybe you need to let some energy out," Jonah said. "You're probably just excited, and we haven't done any spellwork yet today."

"Maybe you're right," said Albus. "Know any good spells I could do right here?"

Jonah stared. "You want to do a spell right now? Without any practice?"

"Why not?" Albus shrugged. "Know any?"

"You could try the levitation charm," said Jonah. "I know we're not starting it until next week, but I know the incantation, I've seen my mom use it. It's… 'Wing-Guardian Leviosa.'"

"Do I just point the wand at something?" asked Albus. "I've never done this before."

"I don't really know. Just try it out, what could happen?"

Albus pointed his wand at his sandwich and cleared his throat.

"_Wing-Guardian Leviosa!_"

His sandwich rocketed up like it was blasted out of a cannon; with a trail of flame, it splattered against the ceiling and then fell, burning to ashes as it drifted back to the ground. Several people who happened to be looking in his direction were laughing and gesturing to others.

"Whatever I did, I don't think it was exactly right," said Albus quietly.

"It's 'WINGARDIUM Leviosa,'" said Rose from several seats down. "Not 'Wing-Guardian.'"

"That might explain it," said Albus. "But I thought really unpredictable things were supposed to happen when you said the words wrong. That was still at least levitation."

His mind drifted back to his wand; it was the first time he'd used it, and it already seemed really powerful. And he hadn't even had practice with any form of magic yet, but he could already work it just fine. Luna had said some interesting things that his wand could help him do… _perform magic with somewhat less theory than others… give a rather strong kick to your elemental forms of magic…_ Was that why things kept bursting into flame?

His wand twitched in his hand, and a little puff of flame flickered out of the tip.

O

Potions was the easiest class to find, as it was in the dungeons; no moving staircases or fake doors were there to hamper one's progress. The dungeons were dark and ominous, and Albus had a feeling that Professor Valon would be a dark person, but his guess was inaccurate. Professor Valon was young, around twenty-five or thirty, but neither dark nor bouncy; he seemed to be more of a neutral presence.

Potions class started with roll call, like the three classes before it; just like Albus's three other instructors, Professor Valon paused briefly at Albus's name.

His thin eyes flicked up and scanned the classroom, until he made contact with Albus's eyes, and they stared at each other for a moment.

"Hey," he said, and then continued with roll call.

Albus did not enjoy being singled out like this. Many of the Slytherins glanced over at him for the second time that day with something that suspiciously resembled dislike, and Albus thought he knew why… His father had probably gotten a lot of the Slytherin students' relatives arrested.

He tried to catch Scorpius's eye, to give a friendly smile, but Scorpius was determinedly looking forward.

"Weasley, Rose? Wilcox, Exorian?" Professor Valon looked up at Exo, and gave another nod. "Hey. Thought you'd be in my House, what happened?"

It was impossible to tell whether Professor Valon was joking or serious. Exo stared and didn't answer.

Professor Valon finished off the roll call with "Zabini, Jasmine," told Jasmine that he knew her father, and then waved his wand.

"This is a class of intensive theory and more intensive application," said Professor Valon as potion ingredients and measuring equipment sailed around the room in intricate spirals. "You will be working with material that is both life-saving and deadly, and as such, the most extreme caution should be exercised, along with the obvious virtue of common sense. Anyone lacking in common sense will be swiftly exiled from the classroom, and will probably not rejoin us.

"Please flip to page nineteen of your copy of _Modern Potionmaking_ where you will find example instructions for brewing the Essence of Thunder, an elementary-level potion. I would like you to create this potion immediately. Everything you will need resides in labeled containers at the front of the classroom. You have thirty-five minutes, which is five more than you really need. Begin."

With that, he opened a copy of _The Quibbler_ and set his feet on top of his desk.

It took most of the class almost half a minute to realize that Professor Valon was serious, and they shifted awkwardly in their seats, asking each other which page he said, and whether he actually expected them to do this. As people decided that he was serious, Albus opened his book and began reading.

_**EXAMPLE POTION: ESSENCE OF THUNDER**_

_**Before each potion will appear a summary of the potion, its history, its common uses, and the mark of a successful brew, to give our potion-maker some background.**_

_The Essence of Thunder is a potion used in many basic-level classrooms because of its very, very simple yet ostentatious nature, and the short time required for maturation. When brewed properly (and little errors tend not to drastically affect the quality of this potion, as it is not used for consumption), this potion will give off deep rumbles, and any object dipped in it will become charged with electricity, delivering static shocks to anything with which it comes into contact. The Essence of Thunder will only rumble when it has reached average room temperature, meaning that it can be silently stored in the cold. Because its volume can be easily maintained, it is used as a sound effect in many dramatic performances._

_**PROCESS**_

_**The process section contains detailed instructions on how to concoct the described potion. Observe the format: Steps are separated by thick lines. The approximate time for each interval is listed to the left of the step. Separate steps are listed when the potion should be allowed to sit or simmer, to avoid an accident such as proceeding to a step without allowing the potion a proper amount of time to mature. To the right of each step is a "checklist" of sorts, for the purpose of making sure that each step has been performed properly and completely, or to which one can refer in order to summarize the production process of a potion in an essay or observe similar brewing characteristics in similar potions.**_

_**Always obtain all the ingredients necessary for production before taking even a single step forward unless noted. It is unwise to leave potions unattended. Therefore, the first step in the creation of a potion in this book is always to obtain the ingredients.**_

_**It is of critical importance that each step be followed very carefully, so take no instruction lightly. Even so, if missing or botching a certain step would be likely to produce DISASTROUS results, that step will be preceded by a set of seven bold exclamation points. Potionmakers are highly advised not to purposefully tamper with the instructions unless techniques can be adapted in reference to the instructions listed for similar potions; though a proper authority should always be notified if the potionmaker in question is underage, and this proper authority should grant some sort of approval for the experiment. In spite of the gravity of our numerous warnings, one should in fact strive to discover new and more effective ways of brewing potions; just not in a way that would endanger oneself or others.**_

_STEP ONE. Obtain one six-inch root of Thunderroot, ten fireflies, and four standard-size electric catfish whiskers. CAUTION: Do not cut or puncture the Thunderroot. Even detached from the plant, it can deliver an electric shock that is fatal to most humans._

Albus sidled his way past the desks towards the front of the room, something that many people were now doing. The potion equipment that had sailed around the room had mostly placed itself back on shelves or in desks, but three containers were open and labeled on the front desk in front of Professor Valon: fireflies, electric catfish whiskers, and Thunderroot. The Thunderroots seemed to be shivering in their box.

"Where do you find Thunderroot, Professor?" asked a Slytherin boy who was eyeing the root with genuine interest. "I thought it was exotic and untradeable."

"It wasn't easy," replied Professor Valon. "What's your name again?"

"Desmond Sescis."

"I'm allowed to collect it for myself, but not bring it across borders," he continued. "Luckily, a previous Potions master at Hogwarts started a small colony deep in the Forbidden Forest, where it flourishes. I collect it fresh every week or so."

"Deep in the Forbidden Forest?" asked a girl with shock. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Your name?"

"Uma Brayard."

"It is actually very dangerous. Professor Wilcox accompanies me to the site where we collect the Thunderroot. We rarely encounter anything serious on the way to the site, but it's fun to explore the forest a little bit while we're there, too, so we'll usually wander off and find Acromantula nests or visit the centaurs."

Several students looked as Professor Valon like he was crazy, but he waved his hand dismissively and said, "To your potions."

Albus just blindly followed the instructions on the page, not really sure what he was doing or why. He just assumed that if Professor Valon had asked them to create a potion without any practice, then this potion should be doable; and if not, he wouldn't be the only one unable to create it properly.

Thirty minutes passed as he dropped in fireflies every two minutes, poked the surface with his wand every two and a half, and looked over more of the textbook during the pauses. He was really interested already, and couldn't wait to learn some theory and make potions like were in the more advanced section of the book.

"Stop, please," said Professor Valon. "Anyone who stops immediately without doing anything else to their potion will earn full marks for today. If I see any student altering their potion after this point, that student will receive no marks. This was just a small test."

The room relaxed visibly, and Professor Valon walked around the class, looking at the potions in the cauldron, nodding every once in a while. He gave more explanation about the exercise as he did so.

"You see, there are two reasons why the Essence of Thunder is such a textbook potion for early classes. The first is, of course, the fact that the instructions are so simple. The second is a secret that we teachers keep from the students until everything is done."

He stopped briefly over Rose Weasley's cauldron, and nodded, impressed. "Best I've seen today," he said. "Tied with Finch-Fletchley, I think."

He crossed over to Albus's potion, and gave an impressed nod. "Not bad at all here, either. So, class, there is a very important component to the Essence of Thunder that is not explained in the textbook. You need to really enjoy potion-making—your emotion needs to be positive and strong—in order for this potion to properly work. People who were bored out of their minds during this exercise will be easy to spot." He gave a nod at Riley Andersen and Scott Waters, who had been talking for most of the class about how they shouldn't be working this hard on their first day. Their potions were grumbling less like thunder and more like an annoyed human.

"The thunder requires feeding from the human mind, which is why you poke it with your wand. You channel the positive emotion into the cauldron, and the potion responds; the look and the sound of the Essence of Thunder is only as intense as the drive one has to successfully complete the potion.

"You all receive full marks for this class, because, unless you had absolutely zero drive, you completed this potion. Therefore it is almost more impressive to have created a bad potion, because you put aside your irritation for the task and completed it despite your personal feelings. This is not, of course an excuse to hold a grudge against the class.

"I'm going to announce the top five in our class, which I have noted by the quality of the potions. It is important to me that the less talented portion of my students know the identity of the people to whom they should turn when they need help. Fifth, Sylvester Alamandrine. Fourth, Scorpius Malfoy. Third, Albus Potter. Second, Abigail Quinn. First, Rose Weasley. Have a good day."

Professor Valon sat back down and reopened his magazine, and set his feet back on his desk.

The class once again exchanged glances—was that a dismissal? It was so sudden, and awkward. Looking down at their cauldrons, they noticed that their potions had all vanished. Apparently they were dismissed. Professor Valon seemed at the moment to be one of the better teachers, but a very awkward person.

O

Albus was pointed out in halls constantly as he passed, and he assumed he was the subject of many whispers that broke out wherever he walked. But after seeing what Scorpius Malfoy had to endure—after walking out of Potions, he was again harassed, this time by a group of Ravenclaws—he didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. He was proud of his father now, rather than resentful about the standards that had been set for him.

He returned to Gryffindor common room with his class after a healthy dinner; all of them were jittering excitedly about the day, except for Exorian Wilcox, who looked slightly pale as he perched himself on the edge of a table and stared at his feet for a moment before wandering up to the first years' dormitory.

Albus was concerned for Exorian, and he went up to the dormitory to check on his classmate. Exo was lying in his four-poster bed, staring at the ceiling with a weary look on his face.

"You all right?" asked Albus, stopping a few feet away.

"Yeah, I'm all right," said Exorian in possibly the most unconvincing manner possible.

Albus didn't say anything, and Exo rolled over in his bed and sighed. "I'm just _frail_, is all. I'm going to bed early tonight."

"Now?" Albus stared. "We just had dinner—"

"Good night, Albus."

Albus shrugged, and he left Exo alone.

O

"You think _what?_"

"I think Exo's a _werewolf_," whispered Scott excitedly to Albus. "Hear his dad yesterday? Coming over? Whispering to him? Exo's frail? He'll probably miss a handful of classes? And I heard that werewolves start to look a little sick right before a full moon. Tonight's a full moon!"

Albus glanced furtively at Exo, who was barely eating and indeed looked, in his father's words, quite "frail."

"_We're at the two-mark,"_ Wilcox had whispered to Exo. The two-mark?

Two days from the full moon?

"Doesn't it make sense?" said Riley, a little too loudly. "He went to bed early yesterday because he's not going to get much sleep tonight, is he?"

"That's right!" said Scott.

And then, as if the universe was doing its best to give them every hint possible, Wilcox strode up from behind them and clapped a hand on his son's shoulder again, whispering in his ear. Exo kept mumbling words back at him like "fine" and "stop," and after about thirty seconds, Wilcox left and rejoined the staff table.

"He's checking up on his little cub," grinned Riley.

Scott looked down at his schedule. "Well, we'll find out tonight, won't we?" he said. "Exo has to sleep in our dorms. If he spends the night in the hospital wing, we'll know for sure."

"And we got Astronomy at eleven o'clock tonight, too," said Riley. "I bet his dad's gonna tell Professor Obbin that Exo's too 'frail' to make the class!"

Riley had a look on his face as if nothing in the world would please him more than Exo transforming into a wolf.

"I hope he's not gonna keep sleeping in our dorms if he's a werewolf," said Scott nervously.

Albus narrowed his eyes. "That's terrible," he said. "It's not his fault if he is!"

"I know it's not his fault, but I don't really feel comfortable sleeping in the same room as someone who might bite my throat open!" said Riley, again too loudly; this time, Exo glanced up from his plate and looked at the opposite wall, inclining an ear towards their conversation.

"You need a volume knob," said Scott. "Shut up, will you?"

"Hah, but he reacted," said Riley more quietly, jabbing a thumb over at the headmaster's son. "He reacted, he knows it's true!"

Hundreds of owls then soared into the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages of forgotten items from home. Albus looked up, eager to catch a glimpse of Taya, and sure enough, the family owl was bearing down on him from the ceiling now. She was an unremarkable brown owl, rather homely-looking, in fact, but Harry liked having owls that weren't too recognizable. Albus thought he knew why.

Taya was carrying two letters. She landed down next to Albus and allowed him to unravel the letter from her left leg, and then she took off again and landed next to James and gifted him the other letter. Then she gave a few hacking coughs and took off again. She was holding up even worse than Flibley… As much as Albus wanted a new owl, he hoped the two would last as long as they could.

He opened the letter, which was of course from home, and he began to read.

_Dear Albus,_

_How are you? How was your first day of classes? Are you enjoying yourself? Are you comfortable? Are you happy? Am I asking too many questions? Your mother wanted to write this letter, but she misses you very much and I was afraid she might try to convince you to come home for another year._

_We love you very much and hope that your Hogwarts days are as enjoyable as they can be. Missing you very much! Here… I guess I'll hand the quill over to your mother now._

_Hi, Al! How are you? How was your first day of classes? Oh, your father already wrote the same exact thing! Oops. Well, you only have to answer us once._

_Write back to us after you're done with classes tonight and tell us all about how everything is going! Unless you have homework to do, of course. And don't forget to take care of yourself. Remember that Hagrid is coming up to visit the school on Friday, and he invited you to tea! And give Neville our love, because I suspect that James won't._

_I miss you so much and I can't wait to see you again, but don't listen to your father, he always exaggerates, I want you to have a fulfilling education and make lots of new friends! See you at Christmas!_

_Love, Your Mother and Father_

Albus smiled and pocketed the letter to answer it after classes. It was time for Herbology with Hufflepuff, and the table was getting up, including Exo, who was still looking pale and delicate, examining his fingernails as if he knew that they would soon be turning into claws…

O

Herbology was another class that seemed like it might take a while to get into full swing. Professor Longbottom, however, was instantly popular as a teacher. He introduced himself to the class, and Kolby asked if it was true that he was the landlord of the Leaky Cauldron. Professor Longbottom confirmed the rumor, and then requested that they all address him as "Lord Longbottom."

They just walked through the introduction of _Eleven Hundred Magical Herbs and Fungi_ during the shorter class, so there wasn't a ton of time to get to know their professor yet; but what impression he did make was good, as Albus could gauge from the mood of the Gryffindors as they left for their second Charms class.

Throughout Charms, which was more theory, and Potions, which was a double period of theory, Albus couldn't help but build his excited anticipation for Transfiguration and Professor Desulgon. He packed his bag at the end of Potions with a big smile. He had a feeling that Transfiguration would be different than his other classes. Transfiguration wouldn't be all theory and books. Professor Desulgon would definitely get them doing some magic.

They filed into the classroom, where the Ravenclaws were already sitting down in the desks on the left. Albus took a seat in the middle next to Alec, and they grinned at each other. Professor Desulgon wasn't in the room, but they heard his voice a moment later.

"I shouldn't think there's any reason why you wouldn't be able to do everything just as well. I'll give you as much help as you need, I know what you mean, it would be very difficult for you to transform something into an object you've never been able to feel completely… Seeing a picture is usually how we do it…"

Dalton Desulgon walked into the room and yelled, "Here it is," into the hallway behind him; Parker Pullman walked in shortly after. Professor Desulgon put a hand on his arm and directed Parker to an open desk; then, he walked straight through his desk like a ghost and sat down in a chair on the other side.

"TRANSFIGURATION!" he shouted as loud as possible; half the class jumped, and he smiled widely. "Transfiguration! The trickiest sort of magic you will attempt, I think. Transfiguration is the art of changing the structure of an object; it includes such topics as Transformation, Vanishment, and Conjuration. Apparition would also fit into this category, but it is taught by Ministry officials and not in the general classroom. Transfiguration is a precise and exact discipline, and some of you will be naturally more adept at this subject than others.

"Who knows the difference between Transfiguration and Charms?"

Nearly everyone in the class raised their hand. Alec was among the few who didn't.

It looked like Professor Desulgon was scanning the room and taking note of who was _not_ raising their hands, rather than who _was_.

He called on Holly Glissendale, who answered that Charms was the art of giving properties to an object, while Transfiguration was the art of changing them. Professor Desulgon nodded, and then asked another question.

"I would like now to see who knows what Transfections are, and if anybody can name the four most common types?"

Professor Desulgon smiled when Rose Weasley raised her hand. Everyone else gave confused stares. Albus was wondering if this was a strategy that Professor Desulgon was using to learn about the class—Professor Valon had said that he wanted to know who was the strongest in their class. By asking a question to which nearly everybody knew the answer, and then a question to which nearly _nobody_ knew the answer, Professor Desulgon had already figured out who the strongest and weakest students probably were.

When Professor Desulgon called on Rose Weasley, she blushed slightly and coughed for a moment before giving her answer. "Transfections are magical afflictions that trigger human Transfiguration under certain conditions… sometimes voluntarily, sometimes not. The four most common types are, in order, werewolves, Animagi, Metamorphmagi, and Botanimagi."

"That was a beautiful answer," said Professor Desulgon, and Rose blushed deeper. "Indeed. There are many other types of Transfections, but almost all of them are single cases that developed under unusual circumstances, like the witch Betty Breese, who tried to become an Animagus and changed her mind to become a Botanimagus, but instead became a dog with a tree for a head.

"You'll go over Transfections in more detail in your third year and up—which raises the question, how on Earth did you know enough to give that thorough of an answer, Miss Weasley?"

Rose sank a little bit in her seat, but Professor Desulgon seemed to be just thrilled that she gave the answer she did. He then slipped the cuffs of his robe together, and when he pulled his hands out, he was holding not one but two wands.

"Ebony, eleven inches, core of dragon heartstring," he said, giving the wand in his left hand a flick. "This was my first wand. I had it matured in Frostflame at about the same time that I purchased my second wand, rowan, eleven-and-a-quarter inches, matured in water. A skilled witch or wizard could look at my wand and tell me immediately that I have a strength in Transfiguration. It's not that some wands are better for Transfiguration than others; rather, some wands are drawn in a predictable way to a witch or wizard who is skilled in Transfiguration. So I'd like you to take out your wands and tell me your wand's wood, length, core, and maturation process, and I'll use that to gain a general idea of who in this class might need a little work."

He started at the other end of the room, with Rose.

"Walnut, twelve-and-three-quarter inches, unicorn hair, matured in flame," she said a little breathlessly.

Professor Desulgon plucked her wand from her hand and waved it once. "Goodness, that's flaccid," he said. "I suspect you're a child prodigy, then?"

Rose turned redder than her cousins' hair.

"You and that Finch-Fletchley," he said, shaking his head. "You couldn't be more different in your wands, though, his being… pear and ramora bone… matured in water. Whatever the wand, I expect great things from you two."

He went through almost all of the Gryffindor's wands before he reached Albus in the middle of the room. After examining the spruce wand of Riley Andersen, who sat in front of Albus, he gestured for Albus's wand.

"Silver lime, Devil's Snare tendril, fourteen inches," said Albus as he handed over his wand for examination. "Matured in Frostflame."

"Wands are truly getting longer these days," said Professor Desulgon, furrowing his brow. "And I'm sure I misheard you, could you say the wood and core again?"

"Silver lime and Devil's Snare tendril," said Albus again.

"Goodness," said Professor Desulgon, staring. "We should bump you up a year." He placed the wand back down on Albus's desk. "I know your family, mostly, and I think the answer to this question is 'no,' but, do you have any Seers in your immediate family?"

"N…no," said Albus, surprised.

"You could very well be one. Class!" He suddenly addressed the room at large. "Just a small announcement… Don't get on the wrong side of this kid." He handed Albus back his wand. "You'll regret it in a few years."

He moved to Exorian and stopped cold.

He leaned down to whisper in Exo's ear. "Hospital wing, now. Out you go."

Exo winced and looked as if he was going to ignore this order, but then heaved a sigh and pushed himself out of his chair.

"Your father explained your condition to me," Professor Desulgon continued in a low voice that Albus could still barely hear. "You need to get to Madam Birchbaum before you collapse. Do you need me to walk you?"

"No," Exo snapped, and made as much of an effort as he could to appear perfectly normal. He gathered his bag and walked mechanically out into the hall.

When Albus turned around, he saw Riley staring at him, facing backwards. Riley raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, jabbing a finger out into the hallway and then making a scary face that was obviously supposed to mean, "_Werewolf._"

"Exo won't be gone long," said Professor Desulgon, and Riley turned around to shoot an intrigued glance back at the doorway. Professor Desulgon continued his trip around the classroom, and took Alec's wand next.

"Larch and manticore spike," said Alec, and Professor Desulgon gave a heaving laugh so heavy that he started to cough.

Alec frowned. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," said Professor Desulgon. "Unusual combination. You should think about joining the dueling club we'll have running after Christmas. Length and maturation?"

"Nine and three quarter inches, lightning. I think the rigidity scale was four."

"Indeed. I'm going to need to keep an eye on you."

Alec seemed to be at odds as to whether to take that as a compliment or something about which to worry.

When Professor Desulgon was finished, he clapped his hands together. "Let's make a deal," he said. "Today we'll have a bit of a class activity, but no magic—but we can do magic during tomorrow's double period. Deal?"

The class nodded its assent, and they did a little activity with their textbooks where Professor Desulgon asked a question, and then they had to find the answer in the textbook. He awarded a point per question to the House of the student who got it. What he apparently didn't expect was that Rose knew half the answers without even having to look, and she knew the location of the other half of the answers in the textbook. When it became clear that Rose was owning the competition, Professor Desulgon gave them all copies of a different book for the class and began asking far more complicated questions. Rose still got fifty percent of the questions by herself, but the Ravenclaws were able to at least get a few points off of her.

"That's twenty-four points for Gryffindor," said Palila Bell, giving Rose a fist bump. "Nice going."

"Oh, I have to be modest," said Rose complacently. "The _boys_ got one or two…"

"Hey, I don't spend all my time with my nose ten feet deep in my book," snapped Riley. "I have a life. And more than one friend."

Rose huffed and turned away, but Albus caught sight of her lip twitching and her eyes closing.

Albus was about to go console her, but Eben Brzunejsky and Kolby Mirabatch got there first.

"Don't listen to him," Eben muttered out of the corner of his mouth as he passed.

"He won't be so smug when the grades roll in," said Kolby, patting her on the shoulder.

Already, on their second day together, Albus was getting to know his fellow Gryffindors. In a word, Riley was abrasive. He and Scott Waters were good friends, and Scott was simply quirky. Kolby and Eben were good friends, too; they were both very friendly and likeable, but Kolby was bouncy and outgoing, whereas Eben was soft-spoken and meek. There seemed to be a slight war going on, Riley and Scott against Eben and Kolby. They competed with each other constantly, and didn't seem to tolerate each other's company much.

Jonah Baxter-Thornton was best friends with Toby Adonax, but they comingled often with Albus, Parker Pullman, and Exo Wilcox. Jonah and Toby had a bit of an arrogant air about them that Albus seemed to associate with Slytherin—then again, Jonah was from a Slytherin family. But they were very agreeable kids, overall. Parker was a jokester, and Exo was just hard to figure out.

After dinner, he wrote out a response to his parents; when eleven o'clock was about to come around, he sent it via Flibley as he walked to Astronomy. Exo was not in the Gryffindor common room.

Riley was looking conceited as they entered the Astronomy tower, and he looked around at Albus, flicking his eyebrows up here.

"Guess which little wolf hasn't shown up to class yet," he said to Albus, flashing a toothy smile. Then he jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, where a window framed the full moon.

"It could still be a coincidence," said Albus. "You can't judge this by one full moon…" He thought about all the evidence, though, and he felt like Riley was right.

"Oh come on," said Riley. "Could it be any more—"

His jaw dropped, and the words caught in his throat.

Exo was climbing through the ladder into the tower, pulling up Parker Pullman behind him. Professor Obbin clambered up behind the last two Gryffindor boys, and closed up the ladder. Exo was looking fully recovered, entirely healthy, and entirely furless.

"Hi," said Exo to Albus. "What's up, Al?"

He turned and addressed Riley, who was still staring at him. "Yeah, I heard you at breakfast," he said. "Look at that beautiful full moon out there! Then, look back at me… Still got any problems?"

Riley just kept staring in disbelief.

"I'll take that as a 'no,'" said Exo. He was talking much louder than normal, and glaring at Riley with much more force than Albus expected. "So why don't you shut up until you can prove these ridiculous accusations you're making?" He stepped into the corner and leaned against the wall, waiting for class to start.

Albus felt a hand on his face, and realized a moment later it was Parker, who was trying to find him. "What's with Exo?" asked Parker when he recognized Albus. "He sounds angrier than I've usually heard him."

"He looks it, too," said Albus, and left it at that; he felt silly for believing the rumor so quickly, felt like he had betrayed Exo's friendship. He looked over at Riley Andersen, who was still sneaking glances at Exo as if the latter was still liable to transform at any moment.

And still, Exo seemed angrier at Riley than Albus would have expected. Maybe he had a sore spot when it came to werewolves, perhaps a family member who had the affliction. He'd have to ask Exo sometime, but definitely not now, when Exo was still simmering in the corner about the accusations.

Albus glanced back at Parker. "Aren't you supposed to be exempted from Astronomy?"

"I only came because I wanted to know where the Astronomy Tower was in relation to everything else at Hogwarts," said Parker. "I like knowing my way around. And I figured I'll just listen in on the first class. I want to know what stars are."

Albus's eye twitched, and suddenly he was extremely grateful for his ability to see. It was something he would have to remember not to take for granted.

O

Astronomy was difficult, due to the memorization involved. It would have been very boring if it wasn't difficult, though, so at least it kept them all engaged. With the conclusion of Tuesday, Albus had now experienced most of his classes at least once, and had a pretty good idea to which ones he was going to be looking forward the most—Herbology and Transfiguration were definitely at the top, and Potions actually looked like a lot of fun, too.

The only classes that he had not yet attended were Acclimatization, on Friday, and Flying, which started the Friday after that. Albus suspected, from what he heard through Exo, that Acclimatization wasn't really a class, so his Fridays looked like a really light workload. There was only History of Magic in the morning and a double period of Herbology which would probably be fun—the double class periods seemed to be the time when most of the application parts of the classes were practiced.

Exo had to spend Tuesday night in the hospital wing, even after attending Astronomy, but he had now thrown out the possibility of being a werewolf—he really was just frail. He reappeared for Wednesday's classes looking even worse than he did during Transfiguration. Albus sometimes wished he had the courage to ask Exo what exactly his "condition" was; whatever it was, it seemed to be something that made Exo very uncomfortable, so Albus respected his classmate's boundaries and kept his curiosity to himself (lest Exo explode at him like he did at Riley).

When Friday finally rolled around, and Albus had paid as much attention as he could to his morning History of Magic lesson, he used his free period to walk down to the gamekeeper's hut, where Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper during Harry's days, was visiting Faustulus Earle. Hagrid had moved to France and married, and was the gamekeeper at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, but he missed Hogwarts so much that he visited yearly to see his successor and visit with his friends' kids. Albus knocked on the door, and the jovial land-mass that was Hagrid let him in with a roar of delight.

One corner of the room looked like it was on fire, with the flaming red heads of Molly, Lucy, and Louis Weasley. Teddy Lupin was also there, sitting very close to Victoire at the table, his hair a bright turquoise, clashing with Victoire's and Dominique's stunning blonde hair. Freddie and Roxanne Weasley were standing in the corner, talking and laughing; James was sitting at Teddy's other side, pestering him; and Rose knelt in the corner, sipping tea and petting Tippy, the adorable little Pomeranian that belonged to the kindly school caretaker, Alpheus Boderight.

Hagrid and Earle were drinking and talking, and Albus got the sense that the party was already in full swing; but even as he sat down, Freddie, Roxanne, Lucy, Molly, James, Louis, and Dominique all had to leave. Victoire apparently had a free period, and when everyone left and the amount of open space in the hut tripled, Victoire and Teddy squeezed closer together anywhere. James looked back and grinned as the door swung shut.

Albus didn't really know what to do—Hagrid and Earle were talking up a storm about the new curriculum—so he took some tea and went to help pet Tippy. The little dog was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen, and he was a cat person; he scratched behind Tippy's ear and the dog panted his happy approval.

They got involved in a little bit of the conversation when Hagrid asked how classes were going, and Charlie Weasley showed up for some tea, too, but overall it was an uneventful party, until they all left for Acclimatization. Albus waved goodbye to Hagrid, and set off for the castle with Rose when something caught his eye and he stopped.

"Tippy?" he asked, looking out into the Forbidden Forest. He had seen the little dog wandering around the edge of the trees.

"Albus?" asked Rose, stopping, looking where he was looking into the forest.

The dog was nowhere to be seen now—it must have meandered further into the forest. Albus ran back to the cabin and threw open the door; Hagrid and Earle were sitting at the table. Hagrid was startled by Albus slamming the door open again, but Earle seemed to expect it (Albus remembered that Earle could read auras, and must have been able to see him coming).

"I just saw—" Albus started, and then he stopped, for Tippy was curled up in a ball at Earle's feet.

"Saw what?" asked Earle and Hagrid at the same time.

"Tippy," finished Albus. "He was walking around the Forbidden Forest, I just saw it! He disappeared into the trees."

"Tippy's jus' a normal dog," said Hagrid. "He don' teleport or nothin'… does he?"

"No," said Earle. "I can tell you're in genuine distress, but I don't think you can be sure it was him, Albus. Tippy's been in here the whole time."

"If it wasn't Tippy, it was definitely the same kind of dog as Tippy," Albus said. "I definitely saw something that looked exactly like him."

"I don't think anyone else here has a dog," frowned Earle. "And nothing in the forest would take Tippy's form, much less be out in the open like that, right at the forest's edge. I'll look around, but you should get to class, shouldn't you?"

Albus nodded and turned back around to sprint up to the castle so he wouldn't be late to his first Acclimatization class. He definitely saw a dead ringer for Tippy, though, and he wondered what it could have been.

O

When he arrived at Acclimatization, he found the Gryffindors and Slytherins crowded around Helio Wilcox, who was beaming around at all of them. "Welcome!" he yelled. "Welcome to Acclimatization, and welcome to Hogwarts! You are probably wondering what Acclimatization will be. Or, my son has told all of you already! That's all right, it doesn't need to be a surprise.

"The word 'acclimatization' means, in this case, to become comfortable with something. I'm here every Friday to help you get comfortable with Hogwarts! This class, like the mentoring program, is a part of PEEP.

"Let us walk a tour of the castle and the grounds. We're going to get to know every corner of the castle by the term's end! I apologize for rushing you, but we do have a limited time."

With that, they all departed and roamed the halls of the castle, learning the locations of the library, the hospital wing, the staffroom, the teachers' offices… Wilcox talked through all of the tour, but during the tour of the grounds, Albus wasn't paying much attention. He was scanning the edge of the forest, trying, unsuccessfully, to see again what he had seen as he left Hagrid's.


	6. Dizzy and Dismiusa

CHAPTER SIX

DIZZY AND DISMIUSA

O

"All right, everyone, line up!" screeched Madam Duopold, the Flying instructor.

Albus didn't need Flying lessons. He'd grown up around brooms, and both of his parents were great Quidditch players. His brother, the youngest House player since his father, had already been a star Seeker—James had won all four matches he played against Ravenclaw and Slytherin. But he had yet to defeat the star Seeker of Hufflepuff: Euan Yodelhop.

"From what I've heard, it's seriously amazing that Euan Yodelhop wasn't named Head Boy," Aidan had said. "He's single-handedly won us the House Cup for the last five years in a row, and he'll probably do it again; he's also been a star student and the best duelist the school's seen. The Hufflepuffs think that the Head Boy decision was biased, you know, because Helio Wilcox was a Slytherin, and he chose a Slytherin Head Boy."

Even though he didn't need to learn how to fly, it was still fun to get an excuse to go outside for a flying break on a mild Friday afternoon.

He turned his attention back to Madam Duopold, who was walking around, dropping brooms on the ground around them. She had sharp features, gray hair, and a good sense of humor. She was caustic but likeable; Albus would have liked any teacher who was going to teach him to fly. He stepped aside a broom.

"Everyone here? Yes, good. Step aside a broom, now…"

"Where's Parker?" asked Riley.

"Somehow, I don't see him doing much flying," grunted Madam Duopold. "A combination of self-preservation and liability. Come on, everyone, step aside a broom so that you can extend your wand hand over it!"

The class did so.

"Steel your mind, you're smarter than the broom," she called. "Most of you, I hope. Now hold your wand hand firmly over the broom and say, 'Up!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Albus's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Riley's broom jumped only about a foot above the ground and swung in a violent circle, knocking the brown-haired boy's legs out from under him. Ava Vaughn's broom did not move at all, and the nose of Rose Weasley's broom lifted up a foot off the ground but the tail did not follow. Palila Bell's broom had also jumped into her hand immediately, as did Jonah Baxter-Thornton's, Scorpius Malfoy's, and Jasmine Zabini's. Eftan's broom almost made it to his hand, and he looked up with clear disappointment as Madam Duopold addressed the class again.

"You think a broom is going to want to jump into the hand of someone who wants nothing more than to stay grounded?" barked Madam Duopold. "You think that, if you're thinking 'I'm not taking one foot off this ground,' that broom is going to want to be the broom that carries you up? They may not be sentient but they can sense fear, and if you're freaking out about flying, that broom isn't going to want to take the risk of flying under a nervous wreck. And for those of you who aren't afraid of the broom but still couldn't do it? Just think about flying happily, pretend you're an expert, and try again. Do it right this time! UP!"

Most of the class got it the second time; Riley's broom still swept at him, but he jumped it like a jump-rope, and Ava's broom still did not move.

"You've got an excuse, dear, half of your family comes from a place that definitely has no use for brooms," said Madam Duopold, patting her on the shoulder. "But _you_! Boy with crazy brown hair. Riley, is it? You don't look Mermish. Get a grip!"

"Tell the broom to get a grip!" yelled Riley back.

Madam Duopold inspected the broom, then handed him a different one and took a step back. "One more time, everyone!"

This time, the class all got their brooms into their hands, though Ava had to lean forward and grab it before it fell back down, and Albus could still see Riley's broom twitching. He smirked; he had taken a dislike to Riley ever since Riley had convinced half the year that Exo was a werewolf.

"Now mount your brooms—step over them, keep holding on to the handle in front of you—what on _earth_ are you doing, Elizabeth, do Muggles ride their horses sideways? The broom goes _between your legs._ Anyway, when I blow the whistle, you will kick off from the ground, and don't do it like you're scared of hurting the ground, either, I mean kick off _hard_. Lean slightly back—_slightly_, unless your intent in this exercise is to slide off the back of the broom like an idiot. This will make you rise in the air slowly. I want you to rise until your feet are above my head, and then tilt your broom ever so slightly forward in order to descend slowly. WHEN I BLOW MY WHISTLE, INGRAM! WHEN I BLOW MY WHISTLE! If you start going up too high too quickly, and you feel like you're no longer in control of the broom, I want you to tumble to the side and slide off—I promise, I will have a Cushioning Charm at the ready in case such an event occurs, don't be afraid of falling. Ready? Anyone need me to say it again?"

Madam Duopold blew her whistle, and Albus kicked off from the ground as hard as he could, and he found himself immediately hovering at the right height; again, he was one of the few who were able to command their brooms to do so; they were the same group who was able to complete the first task. Riley Andersen kept tilting his broom farther and farther back when it wouldn't go upwards, and he eventually slid off and landed on his back in the grass; Eftan was rising so slowly it was hard to tell he was moving at all; Ava Vaughn was red-faced with concentration but still couldn't get her broom off the ground. It was odd for Albus to be able to do this so easily and watch his fellow classmates struggling so badly.

O

As it turned out, Flying was not the only class in which Albus was able to succeed with little effort while his classmates struggled. He was quickly coming to understand that he might very well be third in his year to only Rose and Aidan, who had immediately become the biggest of rivals in the classroom. Whenever Gryffindor had classes with Hufflepuff—Charms and Herbology—Rose and Aidan had a race to get their hands up first on every question, checked each others' quiz scores to see if the other had finally gotten a score under a one hundred, and each performed every spell that was asked of them in such an outstanding manner that some teachers let them instruct their classmates.

Two months of successful classes rolled by, and Albus was becoming highly regarded amongst the teachers. He was also generally liked and respected by most of the students, excluding the Slytherins. Most of the Slytherins generally ignored Albus with a clear passive-aggressive air, but Eftan and Sylvester Alamandrine were friendly with him. The Gryffindor boys often came to him for help and advice in classes—mostly the boys, while the girls went to Rose for help. But he found that, in general, Luna's words best described him: He was getting by with much less studying than his classmates.

Eftan was also excelling, surprising no one more than himself. He found himself performing spells with ease, and was a natural writer, scoring as high on his essays as the star students Rose and Aidan. He was apparently ignored by most of the Slytherins, however, as he was Muggle-born, so he preferred to hang around with Albus, Aidan, and Alec, who met in the library often to study together, despite being in different Houses. Sylvester joined them on occasion.

James made the Gryffindor Quidditch team again, and was sure to let everybody know of his success when the Quidditch tryouts were over and seven grinning Gryffindors walked into the common room followed by several dozen glum faces.

"And I'm going to beat the pants off of Yodelhop and the rest of the Hufflepuffs this year," growled James.

"You'll have to find your pants from last time," interjected Barry.

Albus was beginning to think that all of James's negative hype was unfounded, about how hard the classes were, and he said so to his brother; James laughed and told him, "Just wait until exams," reigniting Albus's worry. Barry Dunbar again took pity on Albus, though, and told him not to be too afraid, the tests weren't too bad.

Flying lessons were to meet for the last time on the week of Halloween; there wasn't too much to teach and it was getting freezing out on the grounds. According to Madam Duopold, Albus would make a great Seeker. Unfortunately, James was two years ahead of him and would be unlikely to give up his spot on his team. Madam Duopold suggested that he try out to be the reserve Seeker, but Albus decided that could wait until next year.

Halloween was a spectacle at Hogwarts. There was an amazing smell drifting throughout the castle that reminded Albus of his mother's delicious homemade pumpkin pie. There were pieces of charmed black parchment all around the school which fluttered around the ceiling like bats, and the suits of armor would jump out and scream "BOO!" at random. Spider webs were strewn everywhere, and the castle ghosts were out and about more than Albus had ever seen them.

The feast at the Great Hall was also spectacular. He talked with Exo, Jonah, and Toby about the brooms they'd seen for sale at Diagon Alley before the start of school, most of their conversation focused on the Soundsplitter and dreaming about owning one.

"It's never gonna happen," laughed Jonah. "That broom is worth more than my entire house and everything in it."

"I would do unspeakable things for a Soundsplitter," said Toby darkly. "Unspeakable things."

"Like become an Unspeakable?" joked Jonah. "You know, the Ministry of Magic workers… in the Department of Mysteries… Yeah, I didn't think it was that funny either."

"I'd never ridden a broom until Flying," said Exo. "My dad thinks I'll injure myself."

"I wish I could just ride a Soundsplitter, just once," sighed Toby. "Albus, your mom was on the Holyhead Harpies! Think she could get a sponsorship? Think you could get me a ride?"

Albus laughed. "If I get a Soundsplitter, I'll be sure to let you have a ride. I'd be lucky to get a Sheerer 360, that's what James has."

"I heard Madam Duopold has a Sheerer 720," said Jonah. "They came out with a new model just a little while ago, the 1080, but the 720's still a great pick for a logical budget."

As it turned out, Jonah was right. During their last Flying lesson on the first Friday of November, Madam Duopold brought her Sheerer 720, a beautiful broom with a shining black handle, and she let each member of the class take a turn on it, supervising them closely.

The Sheerer was worlds beyond the school brooms in skill; Albus always got a broom that leaned left, or vibrated when he got too high, or had twigs sticking out at odd angles. He enjoyed his ride for two minutes or so, admiring the way the Sheerer turned at his light touch, and then landed, handed the broom to Eftan, and wandered around the grounds while the rest of the class took their turns.

Exo jogged up next to him and walked with him around the field near the gamekeeper's hut. Exo was looking extremely frail again, and Albus couldn't help but note that, again, it was the night before the full moon. As convinced as he was that Exo was not a werewolf—he had seen Exo on two different nights of the full moon—he couldn't help wonder why Exo's illnesses had been, now for the third time, aligned with the night of the full moon. Were there other conditions that varied with the moon cycle?

He decided it was time to investigate: He was good enough friends with Exo that he didn't think Exo would be too angry with him.

"Exo… I really have to ask. What's this condition that you have? It keeps getting at its worst at the full moon, and I know you're not a werewolf but I…" He trailed off at a an annoyed look from Exo, hoping he hadn't offended at all.

Exo huffed and his shoulders slumped. "Dad doesn't like me to talk about it."

"Oh."

"It's sort of a thing that gets stronger about once a month," muttered Exo. "It's just happened to be around the full moon."

"Sorry for intruding," said Albus quickly. "You don't need to talk about it if you don't want to."

Exo was looking extremely drained as he mumbled that it was okay.

"I know you're not a werewolf," Albus reassured him again. "And I don't think anybody's going to pry too much after how you shut Riley down; I won't talk about anything you said."

"After I what?" asked Exo softly, an eyebrow twitching.

"When you blew up at Riley," said Albus, grinning. "That was great."

Exo looked at the school and nodded.

"Think we should get back?" suggested Albus. "It's almost the end of the class."

"Yeah," said Exo, and he looked over at the forest's edge; suddenly, his eyes widened, and a strange look crossed his face.

"What?" asked Albus, catching the look.

"Was that a little kitten in the woods?" asked Exo, confused.

"What? Where?" Albus scanned the trees quickly, remembering suddenly a vision he'd had here two months ago, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw movement.

A small kitten emerged from the trees and stared Exo down. Exo seemed to be twitching at the sight of it, and he backed away slowly; as if offended, the kitten slunk down close to the ground and backed away.

Then, it turned its gaze to Albus, and suddenly it was…

"Tippy?" said Exo, gawking. "But… it was just…"

"I've seen this thing before, whatever it is," said Albus, and watched as the little dog started chasing its fluffy tail. It ran in circles for so long that it became dizzy, and fell over to one side and then sneezed. It was just about the cutest thing that Albus had ever seen, but it still made him nervous for some reason.

"MR. EARLE!" called Exo, and the dog jumped up on all four legs again and something red flashed in its eyes as it stared down Exo; suddenly it was a kitten again, but it was baring its teeth angrily. Then it looked at Albus again, and it looked just like Tippy again, started chasing its tail, and became dizzy again.

Footsteps thumped towards them, and the dog turned and disappeared into the woods again. Albus turned, but it wasn't Mr. Earle who was rushing towards them; it was Uncle Charlie. At school, though, he was Professor Weasley.

"Exo? Albus? What is it?" asked Charlie. "And was that Tippy that just ran into the Forbidden Forest? What's going on?"

"It looked like Tippy now," said Exo. "But it kept changing shape, between a kitten and a dog."

Charlie cast his gaze between the trees and squinted. "What on earth…? There are no shape-shifters in the forest, as far as I'm aware. Are you sure it was the same creature?"

"There's no way it wasn't the same animal," Exo assured him. "We saw it change shape three or four times."

"I saw something that looked like Tippy in the forest before," said Albus, and Exo looked over at him. "Two months ago. In the beginning of the year."

Charlie frowned. "Wilcox and Valon have been stalking around the woods lately," he said. "I hope they didn't stir something up in there. But… a shape-shifter? It can't be a boggart, unless one of you is afraid of kittens? And they prefer dark spaces. What…?" He continued considering possibilities, mouthing them to himself.

When he was finished muttering to himself, he turned back to Albus and Exo.

"If you see this thing again, call me or the nearest teacher _immediately_," said Charlie. "Do not go near it, do not entertain it, just get a teacher and tell them to try to lure it over to me or Wilcox."

"Why?" asked Albus. "Do you think it could be dangerous?"

"I'm taking no chances," said Charlie grimly, and he cast his gaze back into the forest.

Exo and Albus watched the tree line for a while, too, and then each realized that they might be late back to class for dismissal, and they said goodbye to Charlie and ran back towards where they could see a lone figure on a broom racing through the air.

O

Throughout the week that followed, Albus caught sight of the little shape-shifting dog every time he walked near the forest's edge. It didn't seem dangerous—in fact, it was extremely timid, running away or failing to appear every time Albus was with someone, and as such, no teacher was ever able to find the dog when Albus pointed it out. It started to become the boy who called dragon, and the teachers made less of an effort to appear quickly each time Albus spotted the creature. Finally, Helio Wilcox decided to investigate the matter himself, and accompanied Albus with a powerful Disillusionment Charm upon himself.

"Dizzy appears most near the gamekeeper's hut, Professor," said Albus.

"Dizzy?" said the nearly invisible Wilcox.

"That's what I've named him," Albus muttered, embarrassed at the slip; naming the creature was a pretty childish thing to do, the sort of thing Lily would have done. "I think he responds to the name now, too. I call him Dizzy because he chases his tail every time he sees me and he gets dizzy."

"It acts extremely cute whenever it sees you, does it," guessed Wilcox.

Albus nodded. "How did you know?"

"I have a hunch as to what the creature is," he said. "Exo described it to me, and every description fits. I don't know whether I'm really hoping it's not, or if I'm really hoping it is…"

"Is what, sir?"

"I'll tell you if we find it."

Albus turned to the forest, waited for some of the traffic from the Friday afternoon classes to pass, and looked around. He could not see the dog, but it usually did not appear immediately anyway.

"Dizzy!" called Albus. "Hey, Dizzy, boy!"

Minutes passed and there was no sign of the dog, despite the many times that Albus called his name. Helio Wilcox sighed and lifted his Disillusionment Charm.

"I'm fairly certain it knows I'm here," said Wilcox. "It's time for Plan B."

"Plan B, sir?" asked Albus; Wilcox hadn't mentioned it.

"Always have a Plan B," replied Wilcox. "And never tell anyone that you have it, because that'll make people suspect that you don't have confidence in Plan A."

He lifted his wand towards the castle. "_Accio Soundsplitter._"

Albus's jaw dropped as a point in the distance zoomed towards them moments later; when it came into clear view, it was the same type of broomstick that Albus had seen in Diagon Alley before classes started. It was a magnificent, shining whitish silver, the same color as the memories that Albus had seen his father place in his Pensieve, with a ring of silvery blue around the tail. Every twig was perfectly smooth; the handle was polished so brightly, Albus could see the forest reflected in it; it looked brand-new.

"Sir?" asked Albus weakly as Wilcox handed him the broom.

"Don't go riding off on it, now," laughed Wilcox. "Not yet, anyway. Here."

He produced a small saucer from his robes, and then he filled it with a clear potion from a black vial. He capped the potion again and handed the saucer gently to Albus so that the potion wouldn't spill.

"This is a simple Sleeping Draught," said Wilcox. "I'm going to leave the scene, but I want you to remain here alone. If the creature comes back, I want you walk about half the distance between you and the creature, slowly, and place this saucer on the ground for it. Then, back away until you're as far away from the dog as you started. Keep a hand on this broom the whole time. Hopefully, the creature will believe it is a dish of water, and will walk forward to drink it. If it does so, and if it falls asleep, zoom away on this broom and find me on top of the Astronomy tower. I will retrieve the creature. This is the important part: If, at any time, the creature becomes angry at all, or makes an aggressive move towards you, or indeed a move at all, mount your broom as fast as you can, and fly into Hogsmeade. That's right—Hogsmeade. Further if it pursues."

Albus started to sweat, and he clenched the broom tighter. He hoped his hand wouldn't shake too much that he'd spill the potion.

"I heard you're a natural on the broom," said Wilcox. "I wouldn't normally let students use my personal broom, but for this special case, I'll make the exception that I don't even make for my son." He started to walk away, but then turned back. "Don't tell Exo I have a Soundsplitter." He winked and continued to walk away.

"Wait," said Albus. "Can…" He was about to ask if somebody else could do it instead of him, but he realized how frightened he would sound if he did. He changed his question as quickly as he could formulate a better one. "Why won't it come out for anyone but me?"

"You said you saw it several months ago, right?" said Wilcox. "I believe that the creature has just singled you out."

"Singled me out?" asked Albus, his throat drying out.

"Not for attack or anything like that," said Wilcox quickly. "Singled you out as a potential owner. It wants someone to take care of it."

With that, he left the grounds.

Albus stared out at the forest, wondering how long it would take Wilcox to get to the top of the Astronomy tower if Dizzy showed up quickly. He cleared his throat and called again.

"Hey… Dizzy? You here? I'm alone now… Want some water?"

It was astonishing how quickly the creature appeared—it might have teleported. Dizzy bounded out of the trees and stopped close to the edge of the forest, tongue hanging out happily, and he began to chase his tail.

Albus took one cautious step forward, trying to smile. The potion sloshed around in the saucer and threatened to spill, and Dizzy stopped chasing his tail, his eyes set on Albus.

Albus took another step forward, and Dizzy backed away slightly.

"It's okay," he said soothingly, and Dizzy relaxed visibly. The dog turned to face him fully and set his eyes on the saucer.

"It's for you," Albus said, and smiled. He took a third step forward, and now he was about a quarter of the distance between them; still freaking out slightly, he decided to place the dish on the ground and back away now.

He closed his hand around the broom and backed away as fast as possible, but still smiled at Dizzy; he held a hand out in a giving gesture, and Dizzy bounded happily towards the potion.

Dizzy lapped at the potion for about five seconds, until he seemed to realize that something was wrong; he cast his gaze up to Albus and glared, then bared his teeth and barked angrily. Albus leapt onto the Soundsplitter as fast as he could, but as he was about to take off, the little dog's eyes drooped, and then the strangest thing happened.

The five closest trees on the forest's edge snapped in half and came smashing to the ground on either side of Dizzy, who chased his tail one last time before curling on the ground and falling asleep, and then vines crept from the fallen trees and circled all around him, covering him completely so that he was not visible.

Albus kicked off from the ground and flew to the Astronomy tower, where, amazingly, Wilcox was already standing waiting for him, slightly red in the face and breathing heavily. Even as nervous as he was, he couldn't help but admire the speed and directional ability of the Soundsplitter; it seemed to obey his thoughts rather than his touch, and as he streaked through the air, he tried to enjoy the ride as much as possible: He would probably never ride a Soundsplitter again. It was truly an amazing experience.

"You did it, then?" he asked excitedly.

Albus nodded.

Wilcox took the broom and mounted it, but before he could take off, Albus stopped him and explained the strange phenomenon; he saw Wilcox's eyes twinkle as the headmaster listened closely. Then, he told Albus to wait at the entrance to the headmaster's office, and took off on the Soundsplitter to collect the sleeping Dizzy.

O

Wilcox was flanked by Professors Valon, Longbottom, and Weasley when he returned, carrying the sleeping dog gingerly in his arms. Professor Valon strode up to the stone gargoyle and said, "_Patultius_."

The gargoyle jumped aside to admit them, and the wall behind them split in two to reveal a spiral staircase that moved slowly upwards, but nobody stepped onto it yet. Charlie was staring at the dog with utter amazement, and Professor Longbottom was analyzing it closely; Professor Valon actually seemed bored.

"Charlie, I'd like you to go down to the library and take me out a book entitled 'A Comprehensive Guide to the Extinct Creatures of the Magical World,'" said Wilcox. "Bring it back here. Neville, I'd like you to take these vines, which I found covering the creature, and analyze them using any means possible. Zayn, would you fetch me another Sleeping Draught, and a Calming Draught while you're down there? Albus, you can come with me and I'll explain a couple things to you; you deserve an explanation."

Albus and Wilcox stepped onto the staircase and moved up in slow ascending circles, until they reached a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin. The pair stepped off the staircase and entered the headmaster's office.

It was an odd place—a large, circular room, headed by a claw-footed desk. Behind it were three portraits—the largest, directly behind the headmaster's chair, was Professor Dumbledore. Albus recognized the portrait—his father had one hanging in their house, and from what he could tell, it was the same Dumbledore who could travel between his painting here and his painting at their house. Dumbledore had two slightly smaller portraits on either side. One was a strict-looking woman with a thin mouth and hair tied back in a bun, and the other was a sallow-looking man with greasy black hair and a hooked nose. Albus recognized them, too, from pictures: The first was Minerva McGonagall, the headmistress before Helio Wilcox, and the second was Severus Snape, after whom Albus had taken his middle name. Both of his namesakes were on this wall.

Behind the desk, on either side of the three centered portraits, there were shelves of books and items like the Sorting Hat. Small desks around the room were groaning with the weight of curious artifacts, the likes of which Albus had never seen; many of them were whirring softly or emitting puffs of smoke. The rest of the walls were covered with portraits of other old headmasters and headmistresses, but most of them were asleep. The three behind the headmaster's desk, however, were staring curiously at Wilcox and the creature he was holding.

"Well, Albus," said Wilcox, placing the sleeping dog on the desk. The portrait of Albus Dumbledore suddenly had watery eyes. "Well. I just can't believe what I'm seeing." It was plain that Wilcox was trying hard not to grin like a maniac.

"What is it, sir?" asked Albus, staring at the dog.

"This," said Wilcox, with a grand flourish with his hands, "is a mulunctapol!"

Albus stared, not knowing whether he was supposed to know what that meant.

"A mulunctapol is a creature closely related to the boggart. It has the same shape-shifting power as a boggart, but it utilizes the ability differently. While a boggart will transform itself into whatever frightens us the most, a mulunctapol will transform itself into something nonthreatening, usually cute, in the hopes of being unnoticed—or, better, cared for and adored. You said that the first time you met this one was right after you first met Tippy? That means that you had an image in your mind of Tippy as something adorable; this creature was able to transform itself into that image of cuteness, knowing that you would find it nonthreatening."

"Are mu—mul—er, are they rare?"

Wilcox almost laughed, but stifled it in respect.

"Rare? We thought that the mulunctapoli had disappeared forever. People hunted them down and destroyed all of them. It is one of the few creatures in magical history that had been completely eradicated by wizards. We didn't even wipe out the dragons."

Albus's heart skipped.

"Why would they do that?"

"Because a mulunctapol has a second defense mechanism, if the first fails," said Wilcox. "It will attack, viciously, and latch its fangs onto the unlucky fellow who startled it. This happened countless times, to people who accidentally kicked it without seeing it, or cast a practice curse into a bush and hit it, or just made it nervous in general. After sinking its fangs into the wizard, it will then suck out his magical power, and use it to kill him or her."

Albus edged his chair slightly away from the creature.

"You have nothing to fear from this creature while it's happy," said Wilcox. "And certainly not when it's asleep. But just remember that you shouldn't make any sudden or aggressive movements. It takes very slight provocation to set off one of these ferocious little beasts. If I scratched behind his ear and accidentally poked him in the eye, he'd level my office in half a second."

"It sucks out magic?" said Albus breathlessly.

"Like a leech," said Wilcox. "Except… once _this_ little one has latched onto you, there's no restoring your power. You're a Muggle. Or a Squib, rather, you could probably still see Dementors and all that…"

"You're a Squib? For the rest of your life?" Albus's jaw dropped; he had never heard of such a dangerous and exotic creature.

"That's right," said Wilcox casually, stroking the sleeping beast's fur. "Why do you think the government _killed_ all of them? They were extremely dangerous, and people were using them as attack weapons, for revenge or general crime. So we decided the world was better off without the mulunctapoli, and we had them exterminated. This was in either the thirteenth or fourteenth century, I believe…"

"1305," said an ancient wizard in a frame to Albus's left. He realized suddenly that all the pictures were just pretending to be asleep.

"1305, then," said Wilcox. "Anyway, after that point, there were no mulunctapoli left in the wild."

"But this one was in the wild," Albus pointed out.

"That doesn't mean that we didn't succeed in exterminating all of the wild ones," Wilcox said. "An intensive study proved that there were absolutely no wild mulunctapoli left in the world. What this proves is that someone had kept them; someone with the intent of breeding them. Possibly as weapons. Maybe even biding their time until now."

"They'd use them… against wizards?" asked Albus shakily. "Against the school? This one was just loose near the school, it didn't attack me or anything…"

"No," said Wilcox. "It didn't. If my hunch is right, then this one must have escaped whatever facility they created him in."

At that moment, Charlie returned alongside Professor Valon. Charlie was carrying a book, and Professor Valon was carrying a vial of potion in each hand. One of them was clear, and the other was light blue on top and pink on the bottom with white froth.

"Calming draught," said Professor Valon, jiggling the multicolored potion. "Remember to shake it up until it's uniform color right before administering it."

"Yes, thank you, thank you," Wilcox said, taking the book from Charlie and the potions from Professor Valon.

He started flipping through the book until he was somewhere near the middle. Charlie and Professor Valon leaned over the book to read with him while Wilcox traced some lines with his finger. Suddenly, he stopped, his mouth frozen in an "O."

Charlie furrowed his brow, but Professor Valon exchanged a meaningful look with Wilcox as he slammed the book shut; the mulunctapol twitched, and Albus jumped back in his seat a little bit, expecting it to suddenly jump out and sink its teeth into Wilcox's leg.

Wilcox took the vial of Sleeping Draught and tipped it to the creature's mouth. It licked down the potion sleepily, returning to slumber when the vial was about half gone. This time, there were no vines to cover it; instead, leaves blossomed from all over the creature's skin and covered it; it was no more than an unremarkable bush in less than a second.

Wilcox plucked the leaves off one by one, and Albus's heart skipped a beat every time he pulled one off; it seemed like the perfect thing to awaken and infuriate the mulunctapol. But the creature stayed asleep as Wilcox pulled off the last leaf, and handed them all in a bundle to Albus.

"Charlie, thank you for fetching the book," said Wilcox. "Could you write and send a letter to your brother Percy explaining the situation? Zayn, stay here for a little while, I'd like a word with you. Albus, would you deliver these leaves to Professor Longbottom?"

"S-sure," said Albus. He had no idea how Wilcox was going to keep the creature asleep for as long as necessary, but he decided not to pry; he was grateful enough that Wilcox had explained so much for him. And besides, he wanted to get to the library and find another copy of the book that had shocked Wilcox so much.

Wilcox conjured a slip of parchment, shoved it into the book to mark his page, and slid it into a shelf level with Dumbledore's beard. Then he gathered up the leaves he had plucked from the mulunctapol's body and deposited them in Albus's arms. Trying not to drop any, Albus hurried out of the room after Charlie and stepped on the staircase, which was now descending.

O

"You got to ride a _SOUNDSPLITTER?_" roared Toby at dinner.

"Why," said Albus, covering his face with his hands, "was _that_ the part of the story you clung to?"

"Because it's a _Soundsplitter!_" moaned Jonah. "You couldn't borrow it?"

"I didn't know my dad had a Soundsplitter," grunted Exo, now paler than ever.

"He asked me not to tell you, so don't tell him you know," warned Albus. "I'm going down to the library to fetch another copy of the book."

"I can get it for you," said Exo.

Albus looked at him.

"You said he bookmarked a page," continued Exo. "You won't know which part was the shocking part unless you have the book with the bookmark in it. I'll bring some parchment with me when I visit my dad tomorrow morning. I'll find the book and copy the bookmarked page."

"Wow, thanks," said Albus. "Your dad won't notice?"

"He'll be out of the room for a while," mumbled Exo. "What was the name of the book?"

Albus screwed up his face in concentration. "It was something like, 'The Guide to the Extinct Creatures of the Magical World.' The page he was looking at was… on my left when I was looking at it, so it was on his right, and the thing that surprised him was near the bottom. He put the book on a shelf to the right of Dumbledore's portrait, right at the level of Dumbledore's beard. Thanks for doing this for me! I'm just so curious."

"I'll have it for you tomorrow morning," said Exo. "Just don't mention it again until I give you the parchment, because my dad could be lurking, worrying about me."

"Can you get the Soundsplitter while you're there?" asked Toby.

O

True to his word, Exo left the next morning, and came back with a piece of parchment copied directly from the book in question. He continued to mystify the class, though—that night after dinner, when he returned to Gryffindor Tower, he suddenly looked perfectly healthy again. But when he came back after getting the parchment, he looked dreadful, even worse than he did at dinner the night before.

Albus was too excited about the parchment to care about the strangeness of Exo's condition, however, and Exo had said that something on that page made him extremely nervous. Albus unfolded the parchment and began to read. Everything that Exo had written down was pretty interesting, but one line in particular jumped out at him.

_The blood of the mulunctapol was used in certain potions. (For further information, see Appendix B of A Comprehensive Guide to the Outmoded Branches of Potion-making.) When the mulunctapol disappeared from existence, these potions became unbrewable, and actually assisted in the collapse of the infamous underground trading circle of Crawthorn. In exchange for MM, the single most strictly banned substance in the world, African underground traders were funneling Exploding Fluid to the British Isles. When the flow of MM ceased to exist, African warlords, who used the potion to create devastating armies, demanded that a substitute brewing method be devised, or the trading link would be severed. No such method was found. MM became the most valuable substance in the world—once it was used, there was no way to make any more. To this day, there has been no reported alternative method to brew MM. But this may be a blessing._

_When British suppliers could no longer deliver MM, their African traders refused to supply any more Exploding Fluid until more MM was concocted. This never occurred, and underground trading routes across the world collapsed—British traders also traded the Exploding Fluid to other networks, and those lines were shut down, creating an avalanche that buried most of the underground trading network and started several small wars, such as occurred when British potion-makers invaded Africa to find Erumpents and obtain Exploding Fluid for themselves, and were confronted by the African traders who had restricted their access to the fluid in the first place._

_An unconfirmed rumor, but more noteworthy than other rumors due to the mysterious magical ability of the mulunctapoli to control nature, is that the mulunctapoli are servants of Dismiusa (dizz-MYOO-zuh), the vengeful forest spirit/deity that was said to reside in the Forbidden Forest on the grounds of Hogwarts Castle._


	7. The Mulunctapoli

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE MULUNCTAPOLI

O

"That's really weird," said Alec, thinking about the story Albus had just told them.

Albus flipped through the books in front of him—one was _Hogwarts, A History_, one was _Spirits and Deities_. Neither book had anything about "Dismiusa" in their appendices. They'd come to the library to research Dismiusa and the mulunctapoli, but Dismiusa was nowhere to be seen, and the books on mulunctapoli were few and far between. Albus had written to his father explaining the situation and wondering if he knew anything about mulunctapoli, but until that time, he wanted to find out more.

Aidan was reading the parchment that Exo had given to Albus, and Eftan was sitting in silent thought. Alec was distracted by funny titles of books. Albus was flipping through _Hogwarts, A History_, looking for a significant chapter title that might suggest that Dismiusa was mentioned, when Aidan cleared his throat.

Albus looked up; Aidan was wearing a curious expression. "I think," he said, "that there's a person we could try asking, instead of reading books."

"I don't want Professor Wilcox to know that I'm snooping," mumbled Albus.

"No, we could ask someone else," said Aidan. "Isn't your family good friends with Neville Longbottom? My dad knows him."

Albus tilted his head.

"Why do you think he'd know?"

"Well, Dismiusa is a forest deity," said Aidan, "and Professor Longbottom is the Herbology teacher. And you said Wilcox asked him to analyze the plants that the mulunctapol was summoning."

"Why didn't I think of that?" Albus wondered aloud. He nodded. "I'll ask Tuesday. We have a break after Herbology."

"You mind if I stay and listen?"

"Not at all."

"Hey guys," said Alec, laughing, "that book was written by 'Ernest Pupin.'"

"This is all so interesting," said Aidan. "I can't wait until Tuesday."

"I could do with an Earnest Poopin'," said Alec.

O

"Mandrakes, of course, you won't be working with until your second year," said Professor Longbottom. "But knowing what they do will be a part of your midyear exam. Questions?"

There were no questions; today was a boring classroom day.

"All right, then you may start packing your things," said Professor Longbottom. "Remember! Mandrakes: restoratives."

Albus and Aidan packed slowly; Rose stayed behind, curious why her cousin was waiting. When the bell rang, the class filed out except for the three of them.

"Ah, Albus!" said Professor Longbottom happily. "I was wondering when you'd stay and have a chat with me. Follow me to my office, then. Rose, how are you? Aidan?"

Rose and Aidan said that they were fine, and Professor Longbottom turned to Albus with a grin as they walked out of the classroom. "So, how are things at home?"

"Dad's working a lot at the Ministry, apparently," said Albus. "I guess there's a lot going on."

"Oh, I expect so. Have you been reading the Daily Prophet?"

Albus shook his head.

"There's a ton going on right now. Lots of extremist groups out there, trying to force the Ministry into revealing themselves to Muggles by destroying Muggle buildings and architecture, setting dragons loose in Muggle airspace, things like that."

Albus was shocked. "Why?"

"Because some people think that what they believe is correct and what everybody else believes is wrong, and that they must use any means to direct the world on what they believe is the right path," said Professor Longbottom. "And some people just like to flex their muscles and leave people in awe. In short, the same reasons as usual for this kind of thing. But enough ranting from me. How have you been, how's your first year been?"

"Fine," said Albus, wondering how he would bring in the subject he wanted to discuss. "Yeah… fine. Really good, I'm…" He paused as they entered Professor Longbottom's office.

"You seem distracted," said Professor Longbottom. "You want to ask me something, you three?" Aidan nodded; Rose shrugged.

"Well, yeah, actually," said Albus. "I was wondering… what you knew about… Dismiusa?"

Professor Longbottom started.

"Well…" He scratched his neck and turned slightly red. "Er. Where did you hear that name?"

"A library book," said Albus, truthfully. "I was wondering what Dismiusa was, so I was looking in a lot of other books, but I couldn't find the name anywhere else… It was just mentioned in passing in one of them, it said Dismiusa was a forest spirit that lived in the Forbidden Forest."

"Now, this book you're talking about," said Professor Longbottom. "It wouldn't happen to be the same one that Professor Wilcox took out a little while ago?"

It was Albus's turn to redden.

"Hah, no worries," said Professor Longbottom. "You do the thing properly, just like your dad. Yes, Dismiusa is a forest spirit; no, you won't hear her talked about much in the school library. It's half fairy tale, half horror story, and wholly fictional."

"Fictional?"

"I hope so," replied Professor Longbottom.

He sighed when they didn't leave.

"All right," he said. "I'll tell you a little bit about Dismiusa… even though this sort of stuff really isn't for kids…

"Dismiusa is an old legend. She was a forest spirit who could control nature. The mulunctapoli were said to be her servants. They would steal magic from people and bring their magic back to Dismiusa, making her more and more solid until she could finally awaken from a slumber and go on a rampage. If she awakened, her power was said to be unmatchable by any witch or wizard. She would destroy all forms of life that threatened nature and its glorious realms—that is, Muggles, with their deforestation and carbon pollution and all that—you should take Muggle Studies.

"Dismiusa has never been 'awakened,' despite the immense numbers of witches and wizards who were attacked by mulunctapoli in the fourteenth century. This makes us doubt her existence. There were actually several suppositions that she was mobile in the forests in the thirteenth century, due to disappearances around that time period; curiously, these reports stopped when the mulunctapoli were exterminated, which makes some people, like the author of that book you read, believe that she is real, and the disappearances were really caused by her. We'll never know if they were, there's no one alive today who was alive back then, obviously." Then Professor Longbottom stopped and went into deep thought for a moment. "Hm… Actually, Dumbledore was friends with Nicolas Flamel… I believe Flamel's grandfather was involved in government at that time, which means he would have been privy to the decisions which caused the extermination of the mulunctapoli. Dumbledore might've known."

Albus glanced over at Aidan; Aidan was looking back at him. Rose just looked confused.

"Anyway, Dismiusa was said to be extremely violent if woken by her servants," said Professor Longbottom. "But it's also said that if someone wakes her, by channeling enough of their magic into her body, then they will receive her spirit into their body. Your soul would become combined with hers, and you would receive immense power until such time as you were killed, and then Dismiusa would fall back into slumber. And that's where Gallen Ingot comes into the revamped version of the myth."

"Gallen Ingot?" asked Albus.

"Yes, you know who he is, right?" said Professor Longbottom. "He was killed on the very day you were born. Gallen Ingot was the wizard who started the Dark Revival eight years after Voldemort fell. He might have been more powerful than Voldemort. He simply waltzed into towns and summoned boiling lava from under the ground, obliterating entire villages in a minute flat. And this made a few people suspect…" Professor Longbottom held out his hand, gesturing that they finish the thought.

"That Gallen Ingot combined his soul with Dismiusa's?" guessed Aidan.

"Bingo. Some assert that this is why he disintegrated instead of dying. Let me tell you, though… This stuff is all extremely far-fetched. Even before Gallen Ingot, people were considered crazy for believing in Dismiusa. Dismiusa's story just got a little more popular when people were trying to find explanations for Ingot's unbelievable power. I do confess that Ingot's power was a little unnatural. People just dug around for explanations, and when they found old myths about Dismiusa, it seemed to fit: All of Gallen Ingot's supernatural abilities were connected with nature. Lightning, lava, earthquakes, tornadoes… So they decided that this was what happened, that Gallen Ingot spent the eight years after Voldemort's death wandering around a forest looking for a spirit. Very few people believe this; I don't know why I'm even telling you."

"But there are a lot of things considered to be stories and myths that were actually true," interjected Rose. "The Chamber of Secrets. The Deathly Hallows."

"That's true," admitted Professor Longbottom. "But there's _absolutely no evidence_ for this one. This was a rumor that sprang up out of absolutely _nowhere_, with no background, no historical events that might have corresponded to its origin. Rather than begin with someone trying to find an explanation, these myths sprung up to explain things that had already happened, centuries ago, and the facts were created out of nowhere, bending the laws of nature to fit the evidence."

"But what about this mulunctapol we found, then?" asked Albus. "Have you figured anything out about it?"

"I once studied the walking tree army that Gallen Ingot commanded," said Professor Longbottom, "and there's absolutely no common ground between those trees and the trees that this mulunctapol of ours was commanding at the edge of the forest. I should think that if there were a connection, that if Dismiusa's power was lent to both Ingot and her 'servants,' that I would have been able to pinpoint it. I was not. Also, Professor Wilcox and Professor Valon have been mapping the Forbidden Forest, and I'm pretty sure they've gotten most of it done already. If Dismiusa or a colony of mulunctapoli were in there, I'm sure we'd find them. This was a rogue. All it means is that we have to do another search, make sure there aren't any more around. The last thing the Ministry needs to deal with is the return of this little creature. But then again, we don't even know if it has the same abilities as the original mulunctapoli. We've seen it command nature, and shape-shift, but we haven't seen it attack anyone yet, so we can't know for sure." He picked up a glass of water and started to drain it.

There were more questions that Albus wanted to ask.

"What's MM?"

Professor Longbottom nearly choked.

"_Where—_are you _hearing_ these things? We need to run another check on the library books—"

"It was the same book," said Albus.

Professor Longbottom sighed. "MM stands for the Marionette's Medicine. It was a highly dangerous substance; very few people knew how to make it. It was a mind-control potion. It—oh, _please_ don't make me explain this to you, you're what, eleven?"

"Please?" said Albus.

"Fine. Fine, but don't blame me when this puts you off your lunch. The first person to drink it is the person who wants to control others' minds. First, he extracts some of his cerebrospinal fluid from his brain area—not much is needed, but not much can be extracted at a time—and he deposits it into a large batch of the potion. Then he drinks about a serving, which is equal to about a gallon. Then he induces vomiting in himself, and vomits the potion into the mouth of the victim, who is forced to swallow. The potion takes action and his brain shuts down and becomes connected like the Imperius Curse to the person who intends to control the victim. But in this case, there is absolutely no way to fight it. You're a puppet under the control of the 'Mastermind,' which is the name they give to the one who donates his cerebrospinal fluid and drinks the potion first, for about two months until the potion wears off—but he can make you take more. Depending on how many people to whom the Mastermind intends to administer the potion, he repeats the vomiting and swallowing process… ad nauseum."

Rose looked ready to start a vomiting process of her own, and Aidan looked pale. Albus decided to slightly change the direction of the discussion.

"I heard that the blood of a mulunctapol was one of the key ingredients of the potion, and that it couldn't be made anymore because the mulunctapoli are extinct," he said. "Do you think someone's breeding them so that they can make the potion again?"

It was just meant to direct the conversation away from vomit, but the speculation made Professor Longbottom freeze and his eyes widened. He stared down at Albus and slowly nodded. "You know… there might be something in that. It would be a serious, serious problem if you were right, but… we have to prepare for that possibility."

His eyes drifted over to the Sword of Gryffindor; its case rested in his office.

"Breeding mulunctapoli even just to have the creature itself is a problem, too," said Professor Longbottom. "But how on earth were they kept secret for over seven hundred years? And why bide your time until now?"

There was an ominous pause.

"Well, I need to grade my fifth years' papers," said Professor Longbottom. "Nice chatting with you, Albus, Rose, Aidan. Stop in again sometime. I'll keep the conversation away from vomit."

Laughing nervously, they left the room.

"What was that all about?" asked Rose as they walked towards the Charms classroom to practice before class started. "Why did you want to ask Professor Longbottom about all that?"

"It's a long story," said Albus. "I'll tell you later."

"Is it about that dog thing you were talking about?"

"Yeah."

Aidan was keeping an eye on her, as if making sure she wasn't going to run off to study and get a head start on him. Their competition grew fiercer by the day.

There was a sudden loud noise in the corridor below them, followed by shouts and jeers. Albus, Rose, and Aidan paused and stared at each other, then leaned over the railing of the staircase to see what was going on.

There were several Gryffindor and Slytherin fifth years locked in a shouting match. They seemed to be yelling about Quidditch. One by one, the students pulled out their wands, and suddenly jinxes were flying around the hall; Albus pulled his head back to avoid getting hit, and Rose and Aidan did the same beside him.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

No teacher would have yelled like that. Who was this? Albus chanced another lean over the railing to see who had yelled; it was an unfamiliar, tall Slytherin girl with a frighteningly muscular build.

"What is going on here?" she snarled. "Are you seriously fighting about Quidditch? Seriously? What do you expect to gain from cursing each other, besides detentions? If I see that again, you're off the reserve squad, Lacralose, I'm serious. The rest of you, get lost, too. Hexing the other team's players and fans is not how we gain respect. If we win, we get the right to be winners, but not braggers. If we lose, we lose. Either way, poor sportsmanship shows that you're not mature enough to play. That's how the game works, and if you can't appreciate that, you _won't_ play. Got it?"

This was the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Albus remembered her name from some of Eftan's boasts: Nella Chelic. Apparently she was one of the most respected students in her House by the rest of the school, and Albus could already see why: She didn't put up with these sorts of idiots who were giving her House a bad name (or, rather, reinforcing its bad name).

They continued their walk to Charms, getting ready to duck if another scuffle broke out: The tension before this week's Quidditch match was all around them, no matter where they went.

O

"How's your first year going now? Still on top of everything?"

"Yeah, definitely," said Albus confidently.

Gillian Gartrive seemed to be a little disappointed every time they had their mentor/mentee meetings, because Albus never needed any help.

Albus thought for a moment. "I'm still a little worried about the midyear exams, though, since I haven't taken any yet. Could you tell me what they're like, and what sort of things you think the teachers would put on them?"

This seemed to brighten Gil's mood—he could finally be useful. He sat down and started explaining the sorts of things from the first half of the year that were on his final test when he was a first year.

Albus wasn't too worried about exams, but he did listen closely to Gil's test-taking advice, as it couldn't hurt.

"And if you can't remember the incantation exactly, you're better off saving the question for the end," he was saying. "If you're doing a practical exam, and you don't have access to the right incantation, you're better off skipping it, actually, they take off less points for a missed question than for a botched incantation, and then you avoid injuring yourself and being unable to finish the test. Of course, you should ask your teacher about the point system before you go into your tests, and this stuff won't matter if you take the precaution of knowing all the incantations…"

Gil took out his wand; Freddie Weasley, who was sitting at a table opposite from them at the library, had removed the chair from under Parker when Parker stood up. With a wave of his wand, Gil slid the chair back under Parker as the blind boy sat back down; Freddie glared at him.

"You know what teachers love to see more than anything else is kindness to classmates," said Gil, loudly enough for Fred to hear. Then the two fourth years both grinned at each other and turned back to their mentees.

"What do you do in Acclimatization?" asked Gil, flicking back his violently red hair, making his phoenix feather earring sway. Several girls at a table near theirs sighed. "I'm curious. We didn't have that class when I was a first year."

"We've just been learning about things like the best pathways to get around Hogwarts, and how to navigate the library, and some Hogwarts history," explained Albus.

"Interesting," said Gil. "Well… is there anything else you need?"

Albus shrugged. "Not right now… I don't think."

"Just tell me if there is," said Gil. He shook Albus's hand and then walked out, kicking Freddie in the behind as the prankster posted a "HEX ME" sign on the back of a random passing second year. Freddie laughed and slapped the back of Gil's head, and they punched and shoved each other as they left.

"Hey, Albus," said Parker, still in the library. "You mind reading me the chapter we were supposed to finish before Transfiguration tomorrow?"

"Of course not," said Albus, sitting down beside his friend. He smiled as he remembered the words Gil had just said.

_You know what teachers love to see more than anything else is kindness to classmates._

He was setting himself up for a very enjoyable and successful first year. For a while, with his studies and the Quidditch fever that was raging through the halls, heating up the cold descent into winter, he began to forget all about Dizzy and Dismiusa.

His focus now lay on living up to the expectations set for him by his surname.


	8. Quidditch Fever

CHAPTER EIGHT

QUIDDITCH FEVER

O

"Welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season! What a match we have for you today, folks, what a match-up: Nella Chelic and the Slytherin serpents versus Cheryl Wood and the Gryffindor lions! Always a spectacle."

James's closest friend, Barry Dunbar, was doing the commentary, closely supervised by Professor Longbottom. The Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were walking out onto the field; Albus recognized his brother and cheered the loudest out of the throng of first years that had been forced up to the higher seats by the older students.

"We'll start with the Slytherin team. The line-up here is the same as it was last year, in fact. We've got the Marshall Brothers, Gregor in his seventh year and Mostan in his sixth year, both Chasers, and Phyllis Lasseter, in her fifth year, one of the strongest Chasers we've seen on this field. Then we've got the Lark sisters, Rena, a seventh year, and Aly, a fourth year, both Beaters. Darryl Minuen of his sixth year is their Seeker. More than half the team is related to a teammate, which creates a very strong cohesion: Nella Chelic, the team's Keeper, did a great job putting this team together. It's well recognized that the only thing that stopped them from taking the Cup last year is that dashing blond with the hilarious name: Euan Yodelhop. Slytherin went into that last match of the season knowing that it had to lose by less than a hundred, but Euan Yodelhop caught that Snitch before Slytherin even scored its first goal! Yodelhop will be taking on Hilda Wallace and the Ravenclaws with his Hufflepuffs in just two short weeks.

"And the Gryffindor team! This could also be Gryffindor's year. There's still a lot of hype for Hufflepuff's team, of course, and Slytherin is even stronger than last year, but this is a very experienced line-up Gryffindor's put together, with nearly everyone in their sixth or seventh year! Excepting, of course, for James Potter, the third year Seeker—but small stature is usually desired in a Seeker, so the fact that he hasn't hit puberty yet could potentially be of use—"

James aimed an obscene sign at Barry as the Gryffindors took their place on the field, and Professor Longbottom tried not to laugh as he hit Barry on the arm.

"So, we've got one sixth year chaser, Dominique Weasley, and two seventh year chasers, Harry Lussen and Erika Jordan, no relation to radio personality Lee Jordan, all returning. We've got one returning beater, sixth year Sally Songhorn, famous for that match last year where she almost smashed the pretty face of Euan Yodelhop in half, but he managed to get that Snitch from James Potter even with all that blood streaming from his nose. Sixth year Kieran Dougan joins her and the team this year, and the team insists he's a miracle find. Then, of course, captain Cheryl Wood in her seventh year, daughter of renowned Quidditch Keeper Oliver Wood, who led England to victory during the last Quidditch World Cup in one of the only shutouts in the Cup's history. Boy, does she have a lot to live up to! With these two amazing Keeper Captains, this match might be decided by the Snitch alone; can James Potter beat Darryl Minuen to the chase for the third time in a row?"

According to three-quarters of the crowd, the answer was "Yes." The Quaffle was thrown into the air by Madam Duopold, and the game began.

"There goes Potter on his Sheerer 360, but this year Minuen purchased himself a Sheerer 720, knowing his team's victory might well depend on who gets the Snitch in this first match. Poor Minuen; he's a terrific Seeker, but he had to be born into these years, where there are so many great Seekers to compete with him… Potter, Moon, and Yodelhop. He just failed to catch the Snitch last year in this match, and Slytherin lost by ten points when it could have won by almost three hundred and sealed itself a victory.

"Weasley's got the Quaffle—she gets it to Jordan when she's swarmed by the Marshalls—and Jordan has lost the Quaffle! Goodness, she managed to drop it on a perfect pass when she was standing still. It's picked up, fortunately for Gryffindor, by Lussen—Lussen quails at the first sign of that Bludger and turns away! Realizing his own inadequacy, he passes to Weasley—sorry, Professor Longbottom, but it's the truth—Weasley gets near Chelic—perfect shot! OH, AND PERFECT BLOCK! Nella Chelic remains nearly untouchable…"

The Gryffindors groaned in disappointment as the Quaffle was picked up by one of the Marshall brothers, and soared over to the Gryffindor side rather quickly. Then Cheryl Wood made a spectacular save that was just as good as Chelic's. Barry's commentary couldn't have been more accurate—not a goal was scored in the first ten minutes.

"WHOA! What's going on with the Seekers—from opposite ends of the field, they're barreling towards the center—must be the Snitch!"

James and Minuen seemed to have spotted the Snitch at the same time. It was in the middle of the field, and when they both went for it, they looked to be on a collision course. At the last second, the Snitch turned and shot across the grass slightly above the field; James and Minuen swerved right before impact, and then they were even with each other, racing for the Snitch, which turned and flew directly vertical.

James and Minuen snapped their brooms upward—James's reaction was quicker, and he had a few inches' lead on Minuen and was closing in fast on the Snitch—but Minuen had a better broom, and in some of the tensest seconds of Albus's life, Minuen crept closer and closer, and his arms were longer—

"THAT'S IT—MINUEN'S CAUGHT THE SNITCH, GAME OVER! With a longer arm and a slightly faster broom, Minuen catches up to Potter and swipes the Snitch right out from under him—er, above him! Slytherin wins, one hundred and fifty to zero."

Albus groaned, and pulled at the skin of his face. A loss? James had never lost to Slytherin before!

Eftan was going to be unbearable—Albus had been bragging about how superb a Seeker his brother was.

"I guess we're going to have to root for third place for Gryffindor this year," groaned Roxanne as she hopped down from the stands; Albus and Rose followed close behind her. "There's no way we're beating Hufflepuff; let's just hope that Ravenclaw gets steamrollered by Hufflepuff and then Slytherin so we can beat them and not come in last."

Albus felt a tap on his shoulder, and he already knew who it was: Eftan. The Slytherin had, in a few short weeks of learning the rules of Quidditch, become one of the biggest fanatics Albus had ever seen. He read up on all of the country's teams and picked his favorite, learned most of the rules and, somehow, had already memorized most of the seven hundred different ways of committing a foul.

"Oh, stuff it," grumbled Albus through an irrepressible smile that rose up when he saw Eftan's victorious, toothy grin. Sylvester was shortly behind him, still whooping and hollering to the skies. "If Gryffindor beats Hufflepuff somehow, we could still win the Cup, because I don't think you guys are going to beat Hufflepuff."

"Library?" asked Aidan, appearing out of nowhere dragging Alec. "For our first big batch of weekend homework?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Eftan. "We've got way too much to put off."

"I don't _want_ to go to the library," groaned Alec. "Why'd they have to give us so much work on the weekend of the first Quidditch match?"

"Probably to teach us time-management," said Aidan. "You're coming to the library, you need it way more than any of us."

"I don't need the library, it won't help," said Alec. "I'm doomed to fail everything."

"With that attitude you are," scolded Aidan, and Albus got an image more than ever of a male Rose.

They talked more Quidditch, however, until they reached the library. Eftan's gloating was almost unbearable, and Aidan insisted that Eftan's glee was misplaced, because Hufflepuff had Euan Yodelhop and was thus guaranteed to be the winners of the Quidditch and House Cups for the sixth time in a row—if they did it, that would make more times in a row than Hufflepuff had ever won either Cup in the history of Hogwarts.

"Minuen's got nothing on Yodelhop," Albus agreed. "But James might be able to eke out a victory if he gets lucky… Nothing's set in stone!"

"Minuen just beat James," argued Eftan. "Maybe _he'll_ get lucky."

"All right, work time," said Aidan as they opened the doors to the library. "Hey, wait!" He let the doors close again.

On the doors were signs, notices about the "Defense Association," which was to reform for its ninth year at Hogwarts shortly after Christmas. There were options to join solely the advanced defensive magic instruction, solely the Dueling Club branch, or both.

"That sounds really cool," said Alec. "I want to learn to duel."

"Me, too," said Aidan. "I think I'll sign up for this."

"Can first years learn to duel?" asked Eftan.

Aidan scanned the poster. "Yeah, looks like it—students from any year are welcome. I'll bet they split us up by year, though. They won't have first years dueling seventh years; that would be cruel." He opened the door again. "Well, we'll worry about that when the time gets here. That's all after the holidays. Right now, it's time for some hardcore homework."

Alec heaved a sigh. He was distracted throughout their entire stay at the library, doodling and asking if they were done yet. Aidan worked twice as hard as anyone else, because he was trying to keep Alec focused as they studied and practiced Hovering Charms, but the task seemed impossible for him. Alec just had an aversion to sitting down and working, and Albus had to wonder if Alec would even pass the midyear exams.

O

"They are approaching," said Professor Desulgon. "Your midyear exams! Sneaking closer like a Pogrebin. Don't give into the despair! You'll do fine if you study, if you've been studying all along. Even so, it's still not too late to catch up."

He caught Alec's eye and then continued.

"I expect all of you to perform well. All of you. There's no reason why any of you would not be able to score a more than decent grade if you try your hardest. This won't be a terrible test, I promise. I will be available for extra help on weekends—stop by my office, and if I'm not there, leave me a note and I'll get back to you. Any questions?"

A Ravenclaw in the back raised his hand.

"Yes, Frasier?"

Gadley Frasier cleared his throat and looked around. "I was wondering… this isn't Transfiguration-related, though… What's a mulunctapol?"

The story had apparently spread. Professor Desulgon cleared his throat, too, and swept some wrinkles out of his robe before answering.

"Professor Wilcox has requested," he stated with authority, "in regards to the recent mulunctapol incident at Hogwarts, that the teachers not spread information about the events… during classes."

The room was silent.

"So come see me after class and ask me again," said Professor Desulgon, and he grinned. "Any other questions?"

The class remained silent, so Professor Desulgon told them they had the last few minutes free. Then he walked over to Exo and started talking to him.

"Your father explained some things to me about a few more special circumstances," he said quietly. "Midday Sunday, is it? I realize you may not be able to get the practice you need that weekend; your father's requested that you have an extension on mastering the stick-to-ribbon. I would like you to stay after next Thursday so I can test you without the rest of the class there. Is that acceptable?"

Exo nodded, and turned away with a hint of a smile. Riley was sitting in front of him, and turned around looking scandalized.

O

_Dear Albus,_

_You know I am a level-headed person. I've had a lot of experience in the Auror Office. I've seen things that would curl the toes of the bravest Gryffindors. I've dueled the most dangerous wizard ever to live—if you called it living—twice. And I am freaking out a little bit right now._

_I admit, I didn't even know what a mulunctapol was, but when I read your letter, I decided to find out. (I asked your Aunt Hermione, of course. She reprimanded me for not paying attention in History of Magic, because apparently Professor Binns mentioned it.) At the Ministry, there's an ongoing investigation into the matter, and no one at the office looks to be any less worried than I am._

_I can't explain anything to you now, but I can maybe try when you come home for Christmas. I may not be there for most of the holiday—I'm still buried in work—but I'll try as hard as I can to be there. In the meantime, I need you to do me a favor: Stay away from the forest's edge. Do not get involved in things that are over your head. If you see any more of these creatures, tell Wilcox or Charlie or Neville or someone immediately, and don't attempt to do anything about it yourself. I wouldn't have listened to this advice when I was younger, but I nearly died several times because of that trait. I'm not asking you to stay out of trouble for your own good—I'm asking you to stay out of trouble because your mother and I are more frightened for the safety of our family than we have been since the days of Gallen Ingot and the Dark Revival. Tell James to stay out of trouble, too, though that might be a lost cause._

_Stay safe. Stay smart. And continue your great work in your classes. Your mother and I can't wait to see you when you come home for Christmas break and hear how your exams went. I know you'll make us proud._

_Dad_

Albus folded the note and tucked it in his pack as he finished his breakfast. He fished out an Owl Treat and handed it to Flibley, who choked it down and ruffled his wings happily but weakly.

"I can't believe it's almost December," said Scott down the table. "Monday's the start of our third to last week, and that last week is just exams anyway."

"You know what I can't believe?" said Riley, and they all knew exactly what he was going to complain about; he still refused to let Exo live in peace. "I can't believe that the headmaster's son can just get a free extension on whatever project he wants. Did you see his smug little grin when he got the extra two days?"

"He really does have a condition, Riley," said Kolby. "Come off it, will you?"

"Why can't I have an extension?" said Riley. "I got a cold last week!"

"A cold doesn't incapacitate you to the hospital wing for the entire afternoon," said Albus.

Riley still didn't seem to understand that nobody else was as annoyed as he was about the "privileges" that Exo got.

"I do wish he'd extend the date for other people who ask," said Scott. "Exo could've just started early."

"His dad's overprotective," said Eben.

Exo joined their table, and the conversation stopped. It turned to the Quidditch match that afternoon: Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff, but nobody expected Ravenclaw to win; not with Euan Yodelhop playing.

"I can't believe we got shut out in that last match," said Jonah. "I mean… my sister's on the reserve squad for the Slytherin team, but I gotta root for my own house."

"I think we should be rooting for Ravenclaw in this match," said Rose. "Gryffindor has a better chance of winning the Cup if the stronger team loses."

"It won't matter if we can't beat Hufflepuff," said Albus. "But maybe we should root for Hufflepuff, because if they slaughter Ravenclaw, then Gryffindor has less of a chance of taking dead last."

He unfolded a fresh piece of parchment, smoothed it out on the table and started to write a response to his father.

_Hi Dad,_

_Just wanted to let you know that, sure, I'll stay away from the forest and out of trouble. Neville said that there's a lot of things going on in the Ministry, and I know a lot of people are worried, so I won't make you any more worried than you already are. I'll keep my head low. I can't speak for James, of course._

_James lost the first Quidditch match last week, I don't know if he told you. It's only because the Slytherin Seeker had a better broom. He's really cheesed off about it and gets really annoyed when we bring it up. Maybe he'd like a better broom for Christmas. Could I have a broom, too? I got to ride a Soundsplitter and it was amazing. I'm not asking for a Soundsplitter, but I would like a broom so that maybe I can try out to be on the reserve squad next year. Oh, and my friend Toby wants to know if Mom can get a sponsorship from the Harpies or something and get a Soundsplitter. Toby wants to ride one._

_I'll write back again before the holidays, can't wait to see you guys again!_

_-Albus_

"I'm going to go deliver this," said Albus, picking Flibley up by a leg while the bird's eyes rolled around sleepily. "I'll meet you guys down at the match."

O

"Ravenclaw takes the field! There's their Chasers, Finch Jameson and Miles Border of their sixth years and Tyler Emmett in his fourth."

Alec cheered loudly from somewhere nearby; Albus remembered that Tyler Emmett was Alec's fourth-year mentor.

"Their Beaters, Anya Brown and Esperanza Ruiz, are said to be the best pair of Beaters since Madrick 'Mad Rick' Marcelon and Daggett 'Death Bat' Canton of Ravenclaw fame, who went on to play for England. These ferocious females are in their fourth year. Here's Captain and Keeper Hilda Wallace, in her sixth year, and Seeker Kalina Moon in her third!"

Mia Moon of Hufflepuff, the girl with the fascinating eyes that Albus had met on the train, had two sisters on the field: Kalina played for Ravenclaw and Mavis played for Hufflepuff. Either way, she'd have to root against a sister, but she aligned herself with her own House and wore her Hufflepuff colors.

"Here's Hufflepuff! There's the new highly acclaimed recruit Devon Elbiell, looking like he's about to soil himself from the nerves—he's only a second year. His—Sorry, Professor Longbottom, but it's true, don't tell me it's not! His fellow Hufflepuff Chasers are young, too, Skyler Dock in his third year and Eileen Dock in her fourth. These two are cousins, not brother and sister, I know a lot of people get that wrong. The Hufflepuff Beaters are Ike Armstrong, in his sixth year, and Mavis Moon, a fifth year, sister to Kalina Moon on Ravenclaw—then we have the Hufflepuff Keeper, Midna Wallace, sister to keeper Hilda Wallace on Ravenclaw! Battle of the siblings here! And then, of course, cue the screaming and fainting, it's the one and only—and for the other teams' sakes, thank goodness there's only one of him—Euan Yodelhop!"

A head of shining bright blond hair and a smile of flashing white teeth greeted the screaming crowd, where every Hufflepuff and every female were screaming their heads off. Even Madam Duopold followed him with her eyes as she walked onto the field with the suitcase of Quidditch balls, and she was, like, fifty, which was really weird.

"The captains shake hands, and Wallace shakes Yodelhop's hand for quite a longer time than necessary—don't give me that look, Hilda, you made it rather obvious—and Madam Duopold releases the Bludgers and Snitch… She throws the Quaffle in the air, the match has begun! Ravenclaw takes first possession…"

It was a lot less tense when Albus didn't have a particular team to root for or against, but also not as exciting, since the outcome of the match wasn't necessarily as important; it all depended on who won the other matches. If Hufflepuff was to beat Gryffindor, then it would be better if Hufflepuff were to beat Ravenclaw, too, so that Gryffindor wouldn't end up in last. And if Gryffindor were to beat Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and if Hufflepuff were to beat Slytherin, then it would be better for Ravenclaw to win.

Or would it? It was starting to confuse Albus, so he decided to just wait for the results and figure things out afterwards. Besides, everyone seemed to think that Ravenclaw had no chance, so apparently, it didn't matter.

This match lasted much longer than the first. Euan Yodelhop was circling the field looking for the Snitch, and Kalina Moon was watching him. She might have been tailing him, figuring that he would probably find the Snitch before she did, or maybe she was just admiring his tan. Ravenclaw was up for almost the entire match, because their Chasers were playing to their advantage: The Ravenclaw Chasers were much bigger physically than the Hufflepuff Chasers, and they were asserting themselves in blocking and pass interception. The Ravenclaw Beaters were also efficient in forcing the Hufflepuff Chasers off their intended paths, usually confronted shortly afterwards by a Ravenclaw with a grudge. With about twice as many Ravenclaw shots on goal as Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaw led Hufflepuff by a score of one hundred and ten to sixty when Euan Yodelhop finally caught the Snitch and the stands erupted into cheers.

"And Hufflepuff takes the match by a round hundred! Euan Yodelhop remains undefeated in his career at Hogwarts with but two matches remaining! Can he stave off Gryffindor and then Slytherin for the sixth year in a row?"

"I'm gonna punch the handsome right out of his ugly face when we play him!" yelled James.

"Or will the pressure get to him first? Everyone be sure to remind him constantly that he is facing a possibly historic achievement! That's all for the match today, everybody, see you again in late January for when Slytherin takes on Ravenclaw!"

Albus joined Eftan, who looked neither happy nor unhappy; Alec, who looked very unhappy; and Aidan, who looked very happy.

"I just hope Hufflepuff completely obliterates Slytherin in Euan's last game," said Aidan, "so he can shove it in Wilcox's face for picking a Slytherin Head Boy."

"Stuff it, Aethan Maddox is awesome," said Eftan.

Albus wasn't paying attention to the argument. He was staring out at the forest, wondering if he'd see another creature like the first. After all, could he really be sure that Dizzy was the same creature the entire time?


	9. The Midyear Exams

_**Hi everyone, Cody here. Just wanted to say thank you to andyicefox for making the cover to this book! But now that you've made a cover to one of them, you're going to have to make the covers to all of them, hope you thought that through... :) Anyway, enjoy this chapter, everyone! I've only got three more to write, then I'm starting on book 2, which shall not be named until the final chapter, just because I like suspense.**_

_**Thanks for following, favoriting, reviewing to everyone who's done so! It makes it all worthwhile.**_

CHAPTER NINE

THE MIDYEAR EXAMS

O

Albus had signed up to book a seat on the Hogwarts Express for home. He had studied until his brain was sore. All that was left was to concentrate and get this done, then move on to his last exam tomorrow.

Professor Longbottom's test and essay were difficult; Albus would have preferred a practical exam, as he promised the final would be. He knew that Mandrakes were used for powerful restoratives, but how was he supposed to be able to remember exactly what they restored…?

The answer came to him in a flash of inspiration from recalling one of his father's stories, the one about his father's second year at Hogwarts, and the basilisk attacks. Petrification was a powerful form of Transfiguration, he remembered Professor Desulgon telling them, and Petrification was precisely the reason his father had to wait for Mandrakes to mature before the victims were cured. He scribbled,

_Mandragora is used as a restorative, used in antidotes to return those who have been Transfigured or cursed to their original state._

He frowned and scratched at his chin. It was awkward-sounding; why? There it was—he'd put the word "used" in that paragraph twice, close together. Acting the perfectionist that he'd grown to be since he arrived at Hogwarts, and feeling that this was something that Rose would never do, he fretted over the problem for a moment or two before deciding it wasn't worth his time and moving on; he still had to bring to his memory whether Deeproot or Dugroot was the meat-eating tree, and whether Black Brerida or Black Caster was the tree that grew faster in fire. He settled on Dugroot and Black Brerida, crossed the t's and dotted the i's in his essay, and then checked his answers on the test one last time before the bell rang and he deemed himself satisfied.

When he handed his test in, Professor Longbottom scanned up and down the multiple choice answers on his paper and winked at him. Albus assumed this was a good sign, and he left the testing room with extreme confidence. He pulled up alongside Aidan, who had appeared from the classroom next door, to walk to the Great Hall for dinner. All of the first years took their exams at the same time; their Herbology exam took place in classrooms sorted by House. Several teachers whom Albus had only seen at the feasts were manning the other classrooms; Albus figured that they took some of the third-year and up electives.

"Have any problems?" asked Albus.

Aidan grinned. "Nope. You?"

"Of course you didn't have any problems," said Albus. "Your only problem is probably that Rose didn't have any problems, either." Aidan laughed. "Anyway, I felt like I did a great job. Maybe worded some things a little awkwardly on the essay."

"That's nothing," said Aidan. "We're still first years, we can get away with that. Most of our friends were probably worse."

"What a fine attitude," laughed Albus. "'Most of our friends were probably worse.' That's the way I ought to look at things."

Alec brushed by them, walking rather quickly. He appeared to have heard them, and he appeared to have thought that they were referring to him, because he didn't acknowledge them and looked rather angry.

"Alec?" said Aidan. "Hey! ALEC!"

Alec didn't respond.

Aidan turned to Albus, looking slightly alarmed. "You don't suppose he thought we were talking about him, do you?"

"I hope not," said Albus.

Eftan shifted through the crowd of first years and caught up with them. "Hey, guys," he said. "Did Alec say hi to you? I asked him how his test went and he scowled and went running."

"I don't think it went too well," said Aidan, sounding upset. "I wish he could have had the drive to just sit down and study for a couple hours. It's not like he's stupid."

"Well, this is why the midyear exams are here, isn't it?" asked Eftan. "To check up on people's progress, so that if anyone's having problems, the teachers can sort it out before the final."

"Alec just refuses any attempts to sort it out," said Aidan. "I've been trying. I'll try harder."

"He's not your responsibility, Aidan," said Eftan. "You're just friends. I'm sure the teachers will sort him out."

Aidan didn't smile for the rest of the day.

O

Right before their Transfiguration tests the next day, Professor Westerling met the first years in the hall outside the classrooms and handed back their Defense Against the Dark Arts exams with the grades on them. He suggested that they not look until after the exam, so as not to pollute their prepared minds, but very few people took his advice. Eftan was jumping for joy about his 97%, and Albus beamed with pride about his 101%.

"Why," said Albus, staring at a gleaming 110% on Aidan's paper, "weren't you in Ravenclaw if you're so incredibly perfect?"

"Hufflepuff's the House of hard workers," said Aidan, shrugging. "I have to study a ton to get grades like this. This stuff doesn't come as naturally to me like it does to some people." He was looking at Rose's paper, also with a shining 110%. "Why wasn't your cousin in Ravenclaw?"

"Not sure," said Albus.

"Why wasn't I in Hufflepuff?" grumbled Alec near them, crumpling up a paper in his hand. Albus couldn't see the full score, but he saw that the first number was a 5.

"You've got brains," snapped Aidan. "Use them."

"But won't that make you look bad?" Alec shot back. "I thought you gauged your successes by my failures."

"What—Are you seriously hanging on that?" groaned Aidan. "I wasn't talking about _you_. I was making a point to Albus that first years generally don't have the best writing techniques in the school, so it's perfectly okay if his essay was a little messy."

"Yeah, because how could Professor Longbottom take any points off Albus's essay when you compare it to mine?" growled Alec. "When there are essays like mine that hog all the deductions?"

"Stop it," said Aidan. "Just stop, Alec, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous and stupid," he replied. "That's just me, isn't it."

He got up and walked away from them, ignoring Aidan yelling at him.

"I don't think yelling at him is going to work, Aidan," said Albus quietly.

"Then you try and get through to him!" Aidan shouted; several other first years looked over. "I've tried and tried, and he just doesn't want to work! I hate seeing him do nothing to improve! I want so badly to help him but he doesn't want to help himself! I don't see you doing anything to try to help him, so don't you talk to me about what's working and what's not working!"

"That's going a little too far," said a soft, kind voice behind Aidan; he whipped around to see Professor Desulgon tilting his head and watching the exchange.

"Oh—hi, Professor Desulgon."

"Clear your head now, you don't want to be all crazy for the exam," said Professor Desulgon. "I'm not sure who you were talking about, but I'm sure that you wouldn't like someone talking—er, screaming behind your back, so settle down there."

Aidan's dark skin flushed.

"A word from the wise, screaming doesn't usually solve anything," said Professor Desulgon. "You tend to block out everything else with the sound of your own voice. I'm sure the problem will right itself whatever the volume. Now get ready, we're about to do our test." He strode away, leaving Aidan very flustered.

"Everyone into the first classroom," announced Professor Desulgon to the chattering horde of students. "Yes, all Houses in this classroom. We're going to do this randomly. I'll pick your names out of a hat. Everyone write your name on a piece of parchment—anyone who doesn't put their name in the hat or misspells it will receive a zero for the test, so don't screw this part up. I'll pull one name out of the hat at a time, and the person whose name I pull will come with me to the second classroom and perform several tasks in Transfiguration in front of me, with a short time limit for each. There will be style points, so remember to make things look good. When people are finished, they will not go to this classroom, but to the third classroom, where they will wait until the bell so that they don't spoil the surprise for everyone else. Got it?"

He waved his wand in the air, and strips of parchment shot from the tip, showering all over the classroom. "Everyone grab a paper, write your name down on one strip, and throw it in this hat." He conjured a hat out of the air and threw it towards the center of the room, where it hovered over a table.

When everyone was finished, Professor Desulgon swam his hand around in the inside of the hat, and pulled out a thin strip of parchment with handwriting that looked very familiar…

"Albus Potter! Come with me, kid."

"Of course," groaned Albus, and he trudged along after Professor Desulgon. He would have no time for last-minute studying, and after completion of the tasks, he would sit alone in the third classroom with nothing but thoughts on how well he did until the second person showed up.

"Right in here, then…"

Albus scooted into an empty classroom, in which there was a single desk with three items sitting on top: a matchstick, a slug, and a button.

"All right, Albus," said Professor Desulgon, conjuring a comfy armchair and plopping down on it like he was reclining at home, procuring a clipboard from the inside of his robes. "Name the four generally recognized branches of Transfiguration."

Albus paused. He had been on the verge of taking out his wand—Professor Desulgon had said they would be performing tasks, and the fact that he had just been asked a question caught him off-guard. He expected that this would be his first practical exam experience. "Er. Transformation, Untransfiguration, Vanishment, and Conjuration."

"Good. What is the difference between Charms and Transfiguration?"

"Charms is the art of bestowing properties upon an object, whereas Transfiguration is the art of altering the structure of an object."

Professor Desulgon smirked at the textbook answer, and Albus felt more at ease.

"What sort of Transfection do I have?"

"What sort of—could you repeat the question?"

"Certainly. What sort of Transfection do I have?"

"Er… you're an Animagus?"

Professor Desulgon nodded, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief.

"Could I still be an Animagus if I was bitten by a werewolf?"

Albus tensed up yet again; the questions were becoming harder. "Er… no, because… because you can only have one Transfection…?"

"Good. Yes, you have a friend who was the son of a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus, don't you? Ted Lupin?"

Albus nodded.

"Shame he graduated last year. I heard he's the most gifted Metamorphmagus who's ever lived, I would have loved to teach and meet him. Alas. What is a constant property of Conjured objects?"

The answer was pressing in the back of Albus's mind, and he knew it, but he couldn't bring it to the front. He was straining with all his memory, but unsuccessfully, and he started grasping at straws.

"Er—they—they are—they aren't—er—"

"Don't worry about that question, it's for extra credit," said Professor Desulgon, waving his hand. "I never went over it in class, but it's mentioned once in the introduction to the book, which I asked you to read on the first week. If I don't ask hard questions, I'll never know exactly where your skill level is." He scribbled something down on his clipboard. "Why is human Transfiguration not learned until N.E.W.T. level?"

This one, Albus thought he knew. "Er… because it's harder to Transfigure more complex organisms, because a lot of people are afraid to try and Transfigure themselves, and because there's more chance of a real disaster if something goes wrong?"

Professor Desulgon flicked an eyebrow. "That was more extensive of an answer than I was expecting. All right, good job. Make that matchstick a needle."

Albus nodded and extracted his wand. He cleared his throat, raised his wand above the matchstick, and softly he said "_Conviso verto._"

The end of the matchstick twitched. A hole appeared in the center and expanded, and slowly the tan faded into silver as the other end sharpened into a point.

"Impressive," said Professor Desulgon. "Very impressive. That, my young friend, is a _perfect_ needle. Using _Conviso_ that cleanly? I'd have put it past the second years' midyear test. Just curious, do you remember the particular incantation for matches into needles?"

"_Acer Verto_," said Albus at once.

"Excellent. Of course, _Conviso_ is used as the blanket spell so that you don't have to memorize the particular incantation for each particular transfiguration, but it is obviously easier to use the specialized incantation, so it doesn't hurt to know it at this point in your school career. Turn that slug into a fancy ribbon before it slides off the table."

Albus pointed his wand at the slug, and cleared his throat again. "_Conv—_WAIT! I remembered!"

Professor Desulgon looked up curiously.

"S-Sorry," said Albus nervously. "I just remembered that… that a Conjured object won't last."

Professor Desulgon broke into a wide grin.

"Fantastic. Your slug is escaping. …Slowly."

"_Conviso verto._"

The slug jerked into the air and then snapped, and a ribbon floated gently to the ground out of the air where the slug had been. The ribbon was patterned with the red and gold of Gryffindor, and had frilly lace around the edges—Albus had practiced this task the most, suspecting it to be on the exam and having performed it as a class assignment perfectly a couple weeks ago.

"And the specialized incantation for that one is '_Slendrilus_,'" added Albus.

"Fantabulous," said Professor Desulgon. "And stylish." He shifted in his chair so he was facing Albus, and folded his fingers together.

"Now, this button… This button _used_ to be something else. It's already been Transfigured. The incantation for blanket Untransfiguration is '_Revertus_.' We have not studied Untransfiguration at all yet. You will by no means be able to get the object back into its original state, especially without knowing what the original object was. However, if you can do enough of a job to make a guess at what the original object was, you should not have to worry at all about your grade. Give it a go."

Albus gave a glance at his wand.

_You'll be able to perform magic with somewhat less theory than others._

He cleared his throat for the third time.

"_Revertus_."

The button jumped up from the ground and flickered in the air before three awkward legs sprouted from its underside, and two glittering black eyes appeared. It scuttled around the table and then toppled off, running in circles around the floor and bumping into the table legs.

"Was it—a beetle?" Albus guessed.

Professor Desulgon's eyes were blazing with pride as he stood up, walked around the desk, and patted Albus on the shoulder. "Let's get you to the other classroom, then. You've set a darn high standard."

Albus glowed with excitement. He'd just smashed his Transfiguration exam. Now he could only sit and wait for his friends to show up out of the examinations at random so that he could ask how they did—except maybe Alec. Albus suspected that he might not want to talk about it.

A girl with short, curly hair was next to enter the room; she looked petrified. Albus recalled her as Nina Amualda, a Slytherin girl. The next girl to come in was Juniper Smith, a Hufflepuff, and then in came Maximilian Arkhoth, also of Slytherin, both looking fairly confident. Max and Nina struck up a chat as Albus waited for a friend to show up. Skye Summers, another Hufflepuff, entered the room and started a conversation with Junie about the test.

Then the door opened again, and Holly Glissendale walked in. She looked around and saw Albus sitting alone; then she walked over and sat down next to him.

"How did you do?" she asked, smiling brightly.

It was a simple question. It was a very, very simple question. Four words. Four very common words. Had it been asked by anyone else, Albus would have had an immediate response, but for now, his brain crept down into his stomach and hid there.

"Er…"

Holly pursed a lip. "Bad? It's hard going first."

"No—great, actually!" Albus tried to smile in earnest. He really hoped that she didn't think he was stupid. "He said that I set a high standard."

"Oh—that's stupendous!" said Holly, bouncing a little. "I get it. You were being modest."

Albus grinned weakly back in response.

"That button was a bug, right?"

"Beetle-bug," said Albus, nodding.

_Beetle-bug?_

He wanted to smack himself in the forehead.

"Beetle, I should have known," she said. "I'd say 'bug' was good enough, though."

Then she turned to him.

"Wait, you remember me, right?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "I'm not just some random girl who came up to you?"

"Of course!" said Albus quickly. "Of course I remember you, you're Holly, I met you on the train coming to Hogwarts, you were wearing a white blouse."

He paled, and then almost blushed, and then paled again, and then started to sweat slightly. Why did he tell her that he remembered what she was wearing? Was he trying to impress her? _What on Earth was he thinking? _That was just creepy.

But Holly just laughed and said, "Yeah, I think I was." Mercifully, she then decided to change the subject back to the exam. "Professor Desulgon said that he thought I was significantly above expectations, so that made me feel good about the exam."

"Yeah, I feel good about it too," said Albus.

_Finally, something I said didn't make me look like an idiot._

"We really have to stay in here the whole time?" pouted Holly after a moment's silence. "There's so many people left. It was, like, a two-minute test, and then we just sit here? What are we supposed to do?"

"Yeah," said Albus, realizing too late that "Yeah" was not an appropriate response for "What are we supposed to do?"

"At least we're done with exams, though. You going home for Christmas?"

"Yeah, I am. Are you?"

_A second intelligible response! I'm on a roll here._

"I am, too. Is anyone staying, do you know?"

"I think Exo is, since his dad is here," said Albus.

"Oh. Is his mom coming up to the school?"

Albus flinched. Exo's mother had been killed in an Auror raid when his father dueled her after discovering that she was working with Gallen Ingot.

"Not sure," he mumbled.

"Anyone else you know? I don't know anyone in our year who's staying. I think it'd be terribly lonely."

Albus nodded. "My dad used to stay, because he hated his aunt and uncle. He said he was usually one of the only ones to stay."

"Oh," said Holly, her heart clearly melting. "That's so sad."

He didn't know where to go with the conversation from there, but luckily, Ilia Kaska, another Ravenclaw girl, walked into the room at that moment. She sat down next to Holly and started chatting with her instead.

Thank Merlin there was no talking-to-girls exam.

It was a few more people before a good friend of Albus's walked in, and it was Alec. Albus tensed, not knowing if Alec would want to sit with him or be by himself to sulk, but Alec sat on Albus's other side, looking stunned.

Alec was silent, and Albus didn't say anything to him—what would he have said? But Alec seemed to be far more confused than angry, and Albus decided to take a chance.

"Er… how'd it go?"

"I remembered most of the questions out of luck," he said. "And Professor Desulgon seemed really happy with me. Then, he… he asked me to do the three tasks, and I…"

He looked up at Albus.

"He said my performance was impeccable."

Albus waited for a while, and then tentatively, as if Alec would suddenly say "Just kidding" and start sulking again, he asked, "…Really?"

"Yes, really," whispered Alec, staring at his feet. "Er…"

"What?"

Alec pursed his lips. "What does 'impeccable' mean?"

Albus laughed. "I think it means 'perfect.'"

Alec perked up. "Wait—really?"

"Yes, really," grinned Albus.

Alec's eyes widened. "I THOUGHT he looked happy!"

"That's fantastic news!" said Albus. "How'd you do so well? Did you study for this one?"

Alec shook his head. "Whenever we do practical stuff… it just… feels right to me. I don't know, I can't keep facts and stuff in my head for long, but magic… I really like _doing_ the magic. I hope all our finals are practical."

"Didn't Professor Desulgon say, at the beginning of the year when he looked at our wands, that he was going to have to keep an eye on you?"

Alec suddenly snapped his head back, remembering. "Oh, yeah… And he suggested I join the Dueling Club!"

"That's right," said Albus. "Wow, I wonder if he suspected you'd be really good in practical stuff?"

Alec was filling with confidence like Albus had never seen. Hopefully, Aidan would walk in soon and see him like this.

But Aidan was close to last. The classroom was so full that they could hardly all sit on the floor without brushing up against each other when Aidan finally walked in and heaved a satisfied sigh. He walked over to Albus, Alec, and Eftan, and gave a nod to Alec that said he was sorry; Alec nodded back.

"So…?" asked Aidan nervously; he clearly didn't want to say the question out loud in front of Alec.

"We all did phenomenal," said Albus. He almost added "Even Alec," but that might have made Alec feel stupid again, and he really didn't want that; not after the good mood Alec had been experiencing during the whole exam period. "How about you?"

"I did—really good," Aidan said, still refusing, as always, to use the word "perfect," but they understood. "All of you guys did phenomenal?"

"Professor Desulgon said that I outdid myself by a good margin," said Eftan. "He said Albus set a really high standard, and he said that Alec's practical portion was impeccable!"

Alec was beaming, and some of his good mood was suddenly transferred to Aidan, who gave him a hug.

"Knew you could do it!"

"You did?" said Alec numbly.

There was a short silence.

"Who's left?" said Eftan, changing the subject. "To be examined, I mean? How many people are left?"

"Before I was called, it was just me, Rose, one of the Greengrass triplets, and a couple Slytherins," said Aidan. "Shouldn't be too long now."

Shortly afterwards, Rose rolled in looking confident. Then Scorpius Malfoy, who was as unreadable as ever, strolled in, and then Heidi Lasseter entered. Finally, Sebastian Greengrass, looking green as grass, walked into the room, and Professor Desulgon followed.

"That's it, everyone!" he announced. "Your Christmas has officially begun. Make it a good one! And make sure your brains don't leak all this stuff out over break… please take the time to find the leaks and patch them up. I'll see you all in a couple weeks, in January."

O

After a weekend of delicious food and great festivity, and the return of several more exams with scores on them that he knew would make his parents beam with pride, the Hogwarts Express departed back to London. Albus shared a compartment with Aidan, Eftan, and Alec again, and they were joined by Sylvester Alamandrine, Jonah Baxter-Thornton, Toby Adonax, and Parker Pullman, so that every seat was filled. Albus saw Holly walk by the window and glance in; she looked disappointed that the compartment was so crowded, and she moved on. Albus had a sudden urge to kick out some of his friends.

"I'm really looking forward to going home for a while," said Parker. "I love school, but I miss knowing for sure where everything is."

Sylvester laughed. "Yeah, they really didn't think about blind people when they designed the moving staircases in Hogwarts, did they?"

Jonah leaned forward dramatically. "So what do you guys all think about this mulunctapol stuff? You think there's something going on?"

"Who would have been able to keep them a secret for this long?" said Toby. "I think they must have just missed a few when they eradicated the species. There's lots of stuff in the Forbidden Forest we don't know about."

"Charlie said that Wilcox and Valon have been 'stalking around the woods,' and they might have stirred something up," said Albus.

"Who said that?" asked Toby.

"I did," said Albus, staring at him.

"No—I mean, who did you say said that about Wilcox and Valon?"

"Charlie? Oh—sorry. Professor Weasley."

"There's a Professor Weasley?"

"Care of Magical Creatures, Wilcox introduced him to us at the start of the year."

"Oh, yeah."

"Mulunctapols are creepy," said Parker. "I don't like the thought that I wouldn't be able to know where they are."

"The plural is 'mulunctapoli,'" said Aidan immediately.

"Did you ask for a Soundsplitter for Christmas?" Toby asked Albus.

"You are obsessed with this broom!"

"I want to ride one so bad!"

"I know you want to ride it! What did you think I thought you wanted to do with it—clean our dorm?"

"But did you ask?"

"I asked Mom if she could get a sponsorship, just to shut you up," Albus laughed, and Toby's face lit up.

"What did she say?"

"She said not a chance."

Toby's face fell again.

"I did ask for a broom for Christmas, but not a Soundsplitter. What did you guys ask for?"

"A basilisk," said Sylvester, and the compartment laughed. "But I don't think my parents would approve. They're Muggles, you know. They like magic, but not in the house. Especially when the magical animal in question kills with a stare."

Eftan took a small device from his pocket and started touching the surface. Then, he held it up to his ear and waited for a few seconds. Everyone in the compartment, except for Sylvester, was staring at him with fascination.

"Hi—Mom? Yeah, I'm on the train—cell phones don't work in Hogwarts, I had to wait until I was far enough away from the castle. What? Oh, I don't know—something about magical interference with electricity. Anyway, I'm heading back now—yeah. See you soon. …You too. Bye." He touched the surface once more and started to pocket it, but Jonah stopped him with an incredulous look on his face.

"What the heck was that?"

"That?" Eftan stared at him. "That was a cell phone. You've never seen one?"

"No!" Jonah gawked. "You're—were you just talking to your mom?"

"Yeah." Eftan seemed to not understand why Jonah was so amazed.

"Wow, that's seriously cool," he said. "Why haven't I heard of these? And how come your mom can use one if she's a Muggle?"

"Because these were invented by Muggles," said Eftan.

Jonah stared him down. "What?"

"These were invented by Muggles," repeated Eftan.

"He's serious," said Sylvester.

Jonah shifted his gaze down to the phone. "Muggles can talk to each other through a little piece of plastic?"

"Basically," said Eftan. "Pretty much everyone has one… You dial a number—that means you just press seven buttons, you have to either remember the number or you can save it to your phone's memory in your contacts—and then the other person's phone rings, or vibrates, to let them know that someone's calling. Then they press the 'answer' button and you can hear them talk and they can hear you."

"How the heck does that work?" Jonah's mind was clearly blown.

"Which part?"

"All the parts!"

Eftan smiled. "It's got a little computer inside it," he said. "Here, look, I can play games on it—" He pressed a few buttons, and the words "Angry Birds" appeared on the screen. "In this one, you catapult the little bird into the blocks and try to knock things over and score points—"

Jonah seized the device. After Eftan explained how to play, Jonah played "Angry Birds" the entire way into the station while the rest of them talked Christmas and exams.

"I've gotta get me one of these things," said Jonah. "I should've asked for this for Christmas!"

"Don't think about stealing one from a Muggle, either," said Eftan, smiling. "Nobody loses one of these things without missing it, and Muggles have ways of tracking their missing phones."

"I'm seriously impressed right now," said Jonah. "Did—did wizards help Muggles do all this stuff or did they do it themselves?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's all Muggle stuff," said Eftan, shrugging. "I don't even know how most of it works. Have you ever seen a movie?"

Jonah shook his head.

Eftan laughed. "I'll download a few for the trip back to Hogwarts. See you then."

Jonah waved goodbye, and then their group split up as they walked around the station, looking for family.

Albus met up with James, and together they looked for their parents. The station was slightly less crowded than it had been when they departed, and it wasn't long before James tugged on Albus's arm to tell them he'd spotted family. They raced towards the red hair they could see through the crowd, which belonged to their mother and Lily.

Albus paused when he had almost reached them, and his smile faded slightly. His mother was also only half-smiling.

"Where's Dad?" asked James, frowning fully.

Their mother sighed. Albus understood from her expression that his father was busy doing overtime at the Ministry. He would probably be doing overtime every day.

"He can't even be sure he'll be with us the whole day on Christmas," she told them as they climbed into the car.

It was going to be a pretty lonely holiday.


	10. Tinsel and Tension

_**Into double digits on the chapter uploads! I feel like a few announcements are in order. Please read all of them... :) I NEVER write this much before a chapter, so you KNOW that important stuff is hidden inside these massive blocks of text. It might clear some things up.**_

_**Firstly, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who's reviewed this story. It means so much to me and andyicefox to know that people care. If you haven't reviewed, but you like this story, please do so! It only takes five seconds to make my day a little brighter. If you have suggestions, I'd love to hear them! If you have no suggestions, tell me to keep it up! You guys are the best.**_

_**Secondly, this first book might be a little slow, action-wise. andyicefox and I were trying to figure out ways that it could pick up the pace a little, but we decided that this was our best story line. Just know that this story is pretty much a massive stage-setter. Apart from Quidditch, there is very, very little in this book that doesn't happen for a reason. I don't think I've named a single character (apart from generic students) who doesn't play an increasingly important role in the series. Almost every detail matters (you can thank andyicefox for this). The mention of Fenrir Greyback is important. The people who have disappeared are important. Heck, the color of Mia Moon's eyes is important! Dismiusa is important, but not for a while, and not exactly in the way I've suggested. (ooh, suspense!)**_

_**Thirdly, to address some stuff that might become confusing or concerning in the future. Albus's wand is as important as was Harry's. Professor Desulgon will explain this more in Chapter 14, but because that's not being uploaded for a month, I figured some people might want to know right now so that they're not confused. The reason Albus's wand is so "powerful" is because it's an experimental wand. The discovery of maturation processes have made wands better than ever, just as any Muggle product will usually improve with time, and Albus's is even more of a special case. Made with Devil's Snare tendril, it's extremely aggressive and invasive, with a personality of its own that may even influence Albus's personality. And with silver lime, with some strange sentience, next chapter it's going to (spoiler alert! Skip rest of the paragraph if you hate spoilers) allow him to get a glimpse of what Legilimency is like! However, staying as "realistic" as possible, controlling this ability is far, far beyond his reach. No eleven-year-old would be a Legilimens. And I can tell you that he won't begin to delve into mind-magic until the same year as his father began studying in the same branch (of course, Harry didn't do so well. Maybe Albus will be more successful.)**_

_**And lastly... I've been messaged a couple times by people asking to know if I've decided what the second book will be named, and what that name might be. Well, andyicefox and I have decided to let you all know, because we're just that nice. :D Not only do we know what the second book is called... we know the names of all seven of the books, and we already know what every chapter in the second book is to be called and most of the chapters in the third. Currently we are outlining book four, with a strong idea of what's in books five, six, and seven. Anyway, the second book is entitled Albus Potter and the Lunar Eclipse. The first chapter of the second book will be posted not the weekend after, but the same weekend as the last chapter of Albus Potter and the Global Revelation.**_

_**Thank you very much if you read all of this! If you only skimmed, that's okay, I still love you. Without further ado, here are your normally-fonted words.**_

CHAPTER TEN

TINSEL AND TENSION

O

As it turned out, Harry wasn't just doing overtime. He was doing overnight.

The Ministry needed him there at all hours, in case they needed to wake him for a case. There was something extremely important going on, and Harry couldn't tell them in his letters exactly what it was. He would be home on Christmas, briefly. Ginny spent her days sulking in the kitchen while half-heartedly doing chores, bemoaning the fact that Harry hadn't been this busy since Gallen Ingot was running through the streets, and wondering what could _possibly_ be so important that Harry was being kept from his family on Christmas.

Their Christmas Eve family dinner was spent mostly in silence; they traveled to the Burrow to be with Albus's grandmother, and although there were so many Weasleys there that it was hard to count, the absence of Albus's father was prevalent, and hung over the family dinner like a curtain. Friendly chats were started, but they always seemed to stop more quickly than usual.

When they returned to their house, Albus went up to his room and began work on an essay that he had to submit to join the kids' activist group Don't Do Dark!, which would gain him extra credit in Defense Against the Dark Arts. When he was about halfway through the essay, James walked in.

"You're doing homework?" sputtered James. "What are they doing to first years these days!"

"It's for DDD!," Albus answered. "Don't Do Dark!, you know?"

"Oh, right," said James. "I joined that. You send in an essay and they send you back their congratulations and then you never hear from them again. It's just something to put on a resume."

"What's a resume?"

"Never mind. Mum just got an owl from Dad, by the way. He says he'll be back tomorrow morning and he can stay throughout most of the day."

Albus's mood brightened immediately. "Awesome!"

"Mum's still mad that he can't stay the whole day, though," he said out of the corner of his mouth as he left. "I wouldn't go downstairs. She's in a mood."

Albus sighed. Didn't Mum know that, with being all depressed about Dad having to stay in the office all the time, she was just making it impossible to even slightly enjoy the holiday?

Apparently not. He let his head fall into his left hand and continued writing his essay.

When he was finished, it was pitch-black outside. He folded up the letter and put it by his bedside table—he would send it after Christmas, he didn't want poor Flibley flying on a holiday. He extinguished his lamp and lay his head down on the pillow.

Tomorrow, he would see his father again for the first time in four months. The thought made him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

O

"Hey, kid."

Albus opened his eyes to see his father sitting on the edge of his bed. He leapt out from the covers and threw his arms around Harry in a big hug. Harry laughed and prised his son off to kiss him on the forehead. "Merry Christmas, Al."

James and Lily were already up; Lily was always up at the crack of dawn. Albus ran downstairs to see three large piles of presents, and he was filled with the kind of joy that he had been lacking all break. He sat down at the head of the pile which had all the presents labeled in his name, and his eyes fell on a long, thin package on the bottom; James had an identical package.

"Presents first, food later?" said Harry, and his kids all nodded in ecstasy. He laughed. "Yeah, that's what I thought, that's how it always works. Except there's never any 'food later,' because you always get enough chocolate to choke a hungry hippogriff."

"One at a time, youngest first?" said Ginny, smiling and leaning on her husband's shoulder.

Without waiting for a response, Lily dived into her pile and extracted the smallest present, which was from Uncle George. It was a little box with several air-holes—_air-holes?_—and when she opened it, two squeals sounded out—one loud squeal from Lily, and a soft little squeak that issued from the box.

"Oh, a Pygmy Puff!" said Ginny, smiling widely. "Miniature puffskeins. I had one once."

Lily hugged the Pygmy Puff close to her face, and it hummed softly in contentment. It was a little salmon-colored ball of fluff with big, sparkly eyes, exactly the kind of thing that Lily loved. She was visibly overjoyed.

"Albus, you next," said Harry. "Open one!"

Albus immediately reached for the long, thin package, and his mother and father shared identical smiles as he tore through the wrapping paper and ripped the top off the box so fast that he surprised even himself.

He gasped as he glimpsed a shining black handle, and he recognized the broom immediately. It wasn't a Soundsplitter, of course, that would have been an insane Christmas gift. But it was a Sheerer 720, a good broom that Albus had ridden on his last day of Flying lessons. It was more than a good broom, in fact; he remembered the experience.

James's jaw dropped. "Albus got a Sheerer _720?_"

"Why don't you open your gift that looks like that," said Harry quickly.

James tore open his own box, and looked actually a little disappointed that he got a Sheerer 720 as well. He examined the black handle, and turned to his parents.

"But why couldn't Albus have just gotten my old broom? Why does he have to get the same broom at two years younger? I didn't get a Sheerer 720 when I was in my first year!"

"Oh, come on, James," sighed Ginny. "Tell me you're not going to make a stink out of this on Christmas."

But James was slightly less festive in unwrapping all of his other presents, and he made sure his family was acutely aware of it. At the end of the wrapping session, Harry looked over to Ginny, and she nodded at him.

Harry walked over to James and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, kid. Come with me, okay?"

James was even less pleased than before, and he let out a loud huff as he scrambled to his feet and stomped after Harry.

"Now, you won't be able to take your broom to Hogwarts yet," said Ginny. "First years aren't allowed their own broomsticks. But you can have it for next year, maybe go on the reserve squad for the Gryffindor team like you said in your letter."

"Maybe," said Albus, still admiring it. It was the best of his presents—he'd received a good amount of joke equipment from Uncle George, like he usually did on Christmas, books, like he usually received from Uncle Percy and Aunt Hermione, and several other luxury items for his stay at Hogwarts, like amazing chocolate and a self-cooling pillow and self-warming blanket set. His favorite, by far, was the broom, but it was also the one that had caused a bit of a dispute between James and their parents. He felt like he couldn't enjoy it as much when it was making James be rude on Christmas; he wished that James was more mature.

There were footsteps coming down the stairs—the talk had been a bit longer than Albus was expecting. He turned around to see James's feet coming down the stairs, followed by Harry's. He braced himself to see a continued pout on James's face and a look of futility on his father's, but he was completely wrong. Harry looked content, and James did not look happy—he looked _overjoyed._

Wondering what it was that Harry had done—promised James a Sheerer 1080 later, or a Firebolt, or a Soundsplitter, maybe?—Albus turned back to his broom and began to examine it with a good deal more satisfaction than earlier.

"Well, now that you're home," Ginny said quietly to Harry as he sat back down beside her on the couch, "you can explain what's going on that you can't even stay for the whole Christmas."

"Murders and kidnapping," replied Harry calmly; Ginny gave a start. "Yes, that's the worst of it. We're pretty sure that part's going to stop now, though, we've taken precautions."

"What in the world has been going on?" whispered Ginny, looking nervous.

"It's happened six times now," replied Harry. "There's a call. 'We need Obliviators, there's a Muggle out in blah-town who just saw a blah.' We send a couple Obliviators, and they don't come back. Six times, this has happened. _Six_. We're dealing with people who have planned this out for a while, and I think there's going to be some bloodshed before this is over."

Ginny dropped her voice so low that Albus could only barely hear her. "Shit."

"Deep shit," said Harry, even softer. "Deep, deep shit. We've stopped all that by sending Obliviators in groups of no less than seven now, but it's running the department dry; they're hiring new Obliviators left and right, even dragging people in from different departments to do Memory Charms, and they usually suck. But that's not where it all stops. There's been disappearances. People just go missing. John Solomon dropped off the face of the earth a couple weeks ago, you remember him, the guy who gives those lectures on being vigilant against the Dark Arts, he teaches about how to cast anti-Dark protective enchantments, he always wears gloves? He missed three of his planned speeches in a row, and no one can find him. Hugh January's gone missing—I was hoping not to have to tell you that on Christmas…"

Ginny had her hands to her mouth and her eyes were watering. She and Harry, Albus knew, were acquainted with Hugh January, the seven-fingered man who worked in Luna's wand shop.

"We're going to have to tell Luna to be careful," said Harry. "Her twins would be what, eight years old now? She's got a young family, she needs to be cautious. There's always attacks on wandmakers, they stock up and then they try to cripple the supply lines, or kidnap them for supplies. I bet that's what happened to Hugh. And the outspoken ones, like John Solomon, they're always the first to go, too."

"You really think…?"

"I don't know what to think," said Harry. "But I know how I _feel_. This has the same feel as… I mean… the disappearances, the kidnapping, the murders, it just feels like…"

"Don't say it," said Ginny, real tears falling now.

"It feels like Voldemort all over again."

"It can't be that serious," said Ginny, not really trying to argue with Harry but trying to assure herself. "It can't be."

"I don't know," said Harry. "What about the mulunctapoli? What about using them as attack weapons, or to produce MM again? Hell, they could have people all over the government already if that's the case. And I have to say… If I were to guess what it feels like to be in the middle of a conspiracy like there was when Voldemort was in power, I'd guess it's something like this. Half our people are dead nervous, half of us are dead calm. People are panicking, and I think it's getting to their heads—the head of the Auror Department, Obydin Auchland, just suddenly decided that he was in favor of revealing the Wizarding world to Muggles! How can anyone be in favor of that! He and Helio Wilcox are doing the most damage, convincing everyone it's a good idea, what they're thinking, I don't know—"

"You know Helio," said Ginny. "He's a great man. And you know _exactly_ what he's thinking, and you know it's not about whether it's a 'good idea.' Helio does believe that Muggles can be trusted with the information, but that's not his driving point. His driving point is that they'll find out eventually, whether we want them to or not, especially with all this so-called 'activism' that's going on, people trying to do as much magic as possible in front of Muggles—"

"And they freak out," said Harry. "Imagine the state of the world if they all found out at once."

"Not everyone is like your aunt and uncle, Harry—of course they'll freak out at first, but so would we, initially, if we were in their place, you can't deny that."

"But we should deal with all that later," insisted Harry. "We should worry about letting the Muggles know when Ministry officials aren't being attacked, and when there aren't daily disappearances and murders. Imagine if Muggles found out about us, and then found out that the wizard government was teetering on the verge of anarchy."

"There, I agree with you."

"I'm just so nervous, I almost want to refuse to be alone with anyone anymore. I mean, there are thousands of greater wizards than I am, but I've become sort of a symbol, haven't I? And I've got the—_the wand,_" he whispered, taking a glance at Albus, who pretended to be leafing through Aunt Hermione's book on the history of magical comedy. "People have got to know about that, I didn't exactly keep it quiet when I got it from our good old friend Tom. I'm worried about the target that it makes me…" He dropped his voice the lowest yet, but Albus had very acute hearing. "_And the target that it makes our kids._"

Ginny was silent for a while, and then she took a deep breath.

"Is there anyone that—if—if worst comes to worst, that we can absolutely, undoubtedly trust? Besides Helio Wilcox?"

It was Harry's turn to pause, and he had a lengthy one as well.

"Falagair. Alana Falagair, we can absolutely trust her."

Ginny frowned. "The buxom blonde babe who bounces around your office ceaselessly?"

Harry chuckled. "That's the one. As loyal a friend as I've seen, and I've got to admit, she's got brains in that rack of hers—" He smashed his hands against his face and groaned. "Oh, Merlin. She's got brains in that _head_ of hers. Forgive me."

Ginny was laughing hard, though, probably letting herself laugh to relieve the tension. "You are forgiven. Though I have to say, that first situation would have been hilarious—"

"Yes, yes," said Harry, reddening. "Well, as I was saying, she reminds me a bit of Adelina Nelson. She's got the same kind of inner fire, and she's not afraid to throw herself in front of the wand for a friend. You can trust her, and you can trust Lynwood Chinch. He's gotten me out of some tight spots in the past and present. And Killian Aubrey—him, too. He's young, but very talented, and very loyal. And, as you said, Helio Wilcox, of course."

"So what else is going on?" asked Ginny. "You said—"

"Sightings of former Death Eaters? Yeah, Fenrir Greyback was spotted just a couple weeks ago; although he was never really a Death Eater, he never had the Dark Mark. But I was confident he was dead—he avoided capture for so long—he worries me as much as anyone else. Not to mention the fear factor he brings with the stigma of his name."

"Where was he sighted?"

"Several places, no real pattern. He appears to be looking for something, and I really hope he doesn't find it."

"Any other former Death Eaters sighted?"

"Well, there was—"

A knock came on the glass sliding door. Harry tensed, but relaxed when he saw that it was a large-chested young blonde woman with a radiant smile who was waving at him. He checked a Sneakoscope that stood on a shelf, and when he was sure that it wasn't even slightly reacting, he opened the glass door and she stepped in.

"Good morning, Ginevra," said the girl.

"Good morning, Alana," said Ginny stiffly.

"Alana Falagair, these are my kids, James, Albus, and Lily," he said, pointing to each of them in turn; they all waved.

Alana smiled. "How nice to meet you! Harry has told me so much about all of you."

"Really," Albus heard Ginny mutter to herself. "I didn't know you spent that much time talking to each other."

"I think you should come visit the hospital, Harry," said Alana, her tone suddenly becoming dead serious. "I'm so, so sorry to, ah, drag you away from your family on Christmas, but it's seriously urgent. Luna Lovegood was just attacked."

"Luna's in the hospital?" screamed Ginny, jumping to her feet.

"No, her five attackers are," said Alana calmly.

"Why do we need to visit them?" asked Harry, stepping forward.

"We need to find out why they tried to attack her, who they're working for, all that," replied Alana. "I wouldn't drag you out of your house on Christmas if we thought we could do it another day, but these guys seem to be dead set on their cause. We have to force them to _breathe_—they're trying to kill themselves at every opportunity. We need people in to take a look before they succeed."

With a mournful look back at his wife, Harry began to follow Alana Falagair out of the house. Ginny gave him a nod that said it was all right; if he needed to go, he needed to go. He smiled back at her in gratitude, blew her a kiss, and then mouthed, _I'll make this up to you._

But the moment the door closed, Ginny turned around and marched out of the room, snorting like a bull.

Albus followed her into the dining room as she muttered to herself, "—run off with your little stalker, on Christmas, no, that's fine—"

Her head whipped up when she saw Albus. "What?"

"Is everything okay?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from trembling.

"No," said Ginny quietly, and she sank into a chair slowly. "No. It's Christmas and nothing is okay. I thought, maybe your father could spend an—an _hour_ with us—of course she's not sorry to drag him out of the house on Christmas, she doesn't know what it's like to have a family, how would she know exactly what she's doing?"

She sighed and leaned back, tilting her head to stare at the ceiling. "That was a horrible thing to say," she muttered to herself.

A silver stag suddenly soared into the room, and Ginny looked up, waiting. The stag walked over to her and nuzzled its head against her side, though it was made of light and it didn't seem to be actually touching her physically. Then it spoke.

"Ginny… I am so, so sorry. First I should let you know that Luna is safe, her family is going under Ministry protection, and I made sure she's with people we know we can trust. Second, I want you to know that, however I may seem to put work ahead of family, it truly is because I want my family to still be here after this is over. I can't lose loved ones. And I don't want other families to lose loved ones, either. That's why I have to do whatever I can to prevent this storm from hitting. I'm sorry, Ginny. I love you."

The stag faded, and Ginny stared into her lap, still angry, tears still falling. She muttered something involving the words "regardless" and "one Christmas."

Albus had no idea how to respond. He just said, "Er…" and then sidled his way back into the family room where the presents and tree might take his mind away from what he'd just heard, though that was seriously wishful thinking.

O

All in all, Albus was immensely relieved to get back to King's Cross and board the Hogwarts Express again. The mood in the house had become unbearably tense. This made Lily even more upset that she wasn't going to Hogwarts for two more years, which made her pout even more on the car ride to King's Cross, which made their mother even more agitated, which made the mood infinitely more tense; it was like a never-ending cycle of bad moods.

When he got on the train, he was again in a compartment with the same friends: Jonah, Toby, Sylvester, Eftan, Alec, Aidan, and Parker. Eftan was already showing Jonah "The Dark Knight" on his phone.

"What's that?" said Jonah.

"A gun," explained Eftan. "It fires metal bullets which go through other people's bodies at seven hundred miles an hour, sometimes killing them, depending on the kind of gun. They're Muggle substitutes for wands, except all they do is kill—"

"What's that?"

"It's a grenade. If you pull the pin out, it explodes—"

"What's that?"

"It's an automatic weapon, it fires lots of bullets for killing lots of people at a time—"

"What's that?"

"It's another gun, for Christ's sake! It's just a really loud one!"

"Why are Muggles so fascinated with killing each other?"

"Hey, from what I hear about Voldemort, they're not the only ones."

"What's that?"

"IT'S ANOTHER—"

"Relax, I _know_ it's a gun, I'm teasing you. Seriously, though, this 'phone' thing is amazing."

"Here, I'll show you how this thing can play music now," said Eftan, going out of the movie and pressing an icon on the screen that looked like a music note.

"How was your Christmas?" asked Toby, turning to Albus.

"It was… terrible," said Albus, and he left it at that.

Toby didn't pursue the subject, thankfully.

"I was talking with my dad about the whole mulunctapoli thing," said Toby. "He says that if there really were people breeding mulunctapoli, there's no way they wouldn't have tried to make MM again. And he says that if they made any more MM, there's no way that people wouldn't have found out about it. So he thinks it had to have come from the wild."

"But Wilcox said that they were certain there were no mulunctapoli left in the wild after the extermination," noted Albus.

Toby waved his hand. "It was the 1300's or something. How perfect could their methods have been that long ago?"

"But then why haven't we found any mulunctapoli at all until seven hundred years later?"

Toby pondered this. "Maybe they hibernate?"

"Or maybe the people who found them kept them quiet," suggested Sylvester, who had been listening. His pet snake coiled slowly around his neck.

"That's a possibility," said Albus. "Or maybe they really do just have a colony deep in the forest, and they didn't emerge to the edge until now."

_Or maybe Wilcox and Valon stirred them up,_ he added in his mind.

"Hey, Albus, how was your Christmas?" asked Alec, clearly having missed the beginning of the conversation.

"Terrible," mumbled Albus.

"Oh," said Alec. "Why?"

Albus didn't respond, and Alec took the hint.

After a very long train ride, he changed into his Hogwarts robes, got some Chocolate Frogs off the trolley with Thonner Gaimond and Bowman Wright cards, and disembarked from the train. He climbed into one of the carriages, pulled, he knew, by the invisible thestrals. Aidan and Alec followed, but Eftan stayed back to follow Jonah and explain the Internet to him. Jonah, Parker, Eftan, and Sylvester climbed into one carriage, and Toby joined Eben, Kolby, and a Hufflepuff boy named Allen Tibbett.

Aidan and Alec sat across from Albus, and the seat next to him was unoccupied for a moment until, without warning, Holly Glissendale climbed into the carriage and sat herself next to Albus.

Numbness trickled down all of his limbs, but knowing that his reputation as a mentally stable individual was at stake, he managed to smile warmly at Holly. Aidan and Alec glanced at each other, and then raised eyebrows at Albus as Holly bumped him with her elbow and said, "Hey, how was your Christmas?"

He paused briefly and reddened again. "Great!"

* * *

_**Thanks for sticking with Albus! Next week's chapter is also short, I know I've had a bunch of short ones (comparatively) but next week's is the last short chapter before a couple of long ones. See you for next week's upload! Uploads every weekend, all the way to the finish line!**_


	11. From Holly to Holly

CHAPTER ELEVEN

FROM HOLLY TO HOLLY

O

"Haven't you had enough holly from all the Christmas celebrations?" joked Alec quietly for the third time.

"You've made that joke already," grumbled Albus, trying not to let Holly hear. They were sitting in their first History of Magic class after the break, their first class on Mondays. Alec had taken a seat next to Albus when they walked in, and Holly had taken the seat on Albus's other side.

"I know, but you didn't laugh the first two times. I thought maybe you didn't hear it."

Professor Binns began their lecture in the front, and Holly's eyes drooped. "Do you _ever_ stay awake in this class?" she asked him softly.

She was making an awful lot of conversation with him, that was for sure. Albus didn't quite know what to make of it, so he just went along with it. "Sometimes. I find that reading the book usually gets me good grades even if I'm not paying attention."

"You read the book?" Holly whispered, impressed. "I just skim it. It gets me by. I don't like doing it, but this class is just… brutal."

Albus grimaced when she wasn't looking. Did she think he was a nerd for reading the book?

"What did you get on the exam?"

"A 93%," said Albus.

Holly gaped.

"Wow, you should be in Ravenclaw with me! Most of the Ravenclaws didn't score that high."

Alec started sniggering at "You should be in Ravenclaw with me," which did not help Albus's concentration as he tried to engage himself in the conversation. "Oh. I think I got lucky, I just studied all the right things, I guess."

"You're being modest, I'm sure you studied everything."

"Well… not _everything_…"

"Most of it, then. We should study together sometime!"

Alec gave him a sideways glance; Albus's brain started to jam up. He studied with his friends already. If he left his friends and studied with Holly, he'd never hear the end of it, and he might grow apart from them—because they were all in different Houses, studying together was really the only time he regularly saw them. On the other hand, if he said "no" to Holly's offer, she might take that as a rejection, and _she_ might grow apart from him. He liked her company more than he cared to admit; she was a very nice girl (and very pretty, too). He didn't like the idea of inviting her to his friends' study group, either… He didn't quite know why this idea didn't sit right with him, but it didn't. And the only other option available was to study with both Holly and his other friends at two separate times, although anyone who saw his grades knew it was clear that he certainly did not need two different study sessions for tests.

"Sure," he said finally, smiling back at her.

Holly beamed and then turned her head down and started doodling on her notes. Albus let the wind out of his lungs in a long breath and wondered if he'd said all of the right things, or, indeed, any of the right things.

O

When they left History of Magic, Holly walked out of the classroom very close to Albus, and Alec was whispering excitedly to Riley and Scott. Albus was just thinking that he couldn't get any more embarrassed when the unspeakable happened.

Holly bumped her head against Albus's shoulder and said, "You're such a nice guy, Albus."

And then came a maniacal cackle from nowhere and a scream of, "WHY, POTTY WEE POTTER'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND!"

A stout little man zoomed through the air above them, carrying an armful of eggs.

"Peeves," groaned Albus.

"That's the one!" the little man shouted. He halted just above them. Then, he laughed and opened his arms, and a cascade of eggs rained down on Albus and Holly.

"POTTY WEE POTTER'S GOT A GIRLFRIEND! ICKLE FIRSTIE ROMANCE! WHAT A LADIES' MAN! BABY POTTY AND SMALLY HOLLY! HOW CUU-UU-UUTE!" And then he swam away through the air, singing a loud song apparently just made up on the spot about Albus and Holly smooching away, as Albus and Holly stood in shock, dripping yolk and egg shells.

"Egg on your face, Potter?" said Scorpius smoothly as he walked by.

Albus wanted to board a Soundsplitter and take off for Australia.

He and Holly exchanged glances; Holly looked terribly upset. Should he comfort her? Should he say he was sorry?

He was saved the job of making that decision when a voice spoke in his ear.

"Egg on your face, Albus?"

"You're too late, that joke's been made," muttered Albus, turning around to face Professor Desulgon.

"Ah, darn. I thought I was being clever." He pointed a wand at Albus in his left hand and a wand at Holly in his right hand. "_Tergeo itero._" The egg was siphoned off, disappearing when it touched the tip of Professor Desulgon's wand.

"Thanks," said Holly, quieter than a mouse, and then she disappeared into the crowd.

"How do you do that?" asked Albus. "Control two wands at once, I mean?"

"I was taught," he answered, walking with Albus. "It's very possible to use two wands at a time. The problem with the technique is that too often, people can't keep their minds on doing things with both wands at the same time, and they get confused; a wand can't work with a confused master. It takes an unbelievable amount of skill and instinct. It also helps to be ambidextrous, which I am. Mostly two wands are just useful to have when you need to perform a Diwand spell—that is, spells that cannot be performed unless you do have two wands, like Frostflames or Shatterbolts."

"Is '_Itero_' the word you use when you want to do something with both wands?" asked Albus.

Professor Desulgon smiled and nodded. "You pick up quick."

Albus paused for a moment, checking out a sign on Professor Westerling's office door—the same one he'd seen with Aidan, Eftan, and Alec on the library doors. It was advertising the Defense Association; Albus was most interested in the first half of the meetings, which were the Dueling lessons.

"Oh, are you interested in the Defense Association?" asked Professor Desulgon, noticing Albus fall back. "I think you'd be a fantastic duelist."

"I'd like to learn to duel," said Albus, thinking about his father's words on how worried he was that his kids would be targeted.

"I believe you'll actually be hearing about the Defense Association whenever you have Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'll look forward to seeing you there if you come."

"I think I will," said Albus. It was to his advantage to learn as much defense as possible, in the face of what could possibly be an oncoming war.

O

Albus's next class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Westerling did indeed offer membership in the Defense Association, as extra credit. Almost everyone in the class, which was Gryffindor and Slytherin, signed up—the only ones who didn't were Exo, Parker, and Ava Vaughn, the part-Mermish Slytherin girl. After that, they went back to their syllabus of studying Dark creatures, and Albus found that he had not only remembered everything they covered before break: he remembered it thoroughly. Again he coasted through the class with little effort, answering almost as many questions as Rose; again he needed far less effort than his classmates.

Alec, on the other hand, seemed to be suffering worse than ever. The only exam he had passed was Transfiguration, and this plunged him back into a dark mood. Tyler Emmett, his mentor, was working himself sick trying to get Alec back on the right track, but Tyler had Quidditch practice to attend to, as well as the growing workload of his own fourth year, and Alec avoided his help anyway for a reason Albus didn't quite understand.

Albus decided to confront him about it at breakfast on their second Wednesday back. He walked down the Ravenclaw table until he found the familiar head of scraggly blond hair.

"Alec, what's going on with you?" he asked quietly. "You haven't been taking any notes, or paying attention in any classes, or making any effort at all."

"It doesn't matter what I do," huffed Alec back. "I'm still going to fail everything."

"You passed Transfiguration!" argued Albus.

"Yeah. One class. By luck. That's all that's gonna matter for me anyway—luck—'cause I don't have any skill, that's for sure."

"With that attitude, of course you're going to fail," said Albus through clenched teeth. "You have to get your mind right!"

"I _can't_ get my mind right!" Alec half-shouted, and several people at the table turned to look at him curiously. Alec lowered his voice and leaned closer to Albus, hissing at him. "I can't hold facts in my brain for more than a few seconds at a time, I can't concentrate on work without getting all fidgety and losing focus, I get distracted super-easily—hey, look, someone's got a Howler!"

Albus looked up, vaguely aware of the humor of the situation and strongly aware of the annoyance he was harboring for his friend, when his stomach dropped and his blood seemed to freeze solid in his veins, his heart thumping—

It was Taya, the Potters' family owl, flying amongst the owls who delivered the post at breakfast, and she was heading straight for him with a red envelope in her beak that was most _certainly_ a Howler.

_What did I do?_ he wondered vaguely, unsure if he should sprint out of the room the second he caught the letter, or open it immediately in the room, debating on which would be less embarrassing. He made his decision and bent his legs, ready to run, still unsure as to what he did wrong that would merit a _Howler_ from his parents, when Taya streaked straight over him and made for James.

That made loads more sense. He wondered why he hadn't expected it to be for James from the get-go. He stalked back into his chair and leaned over the table, watching.

James was looking confused—apparently he hadn't done anything wrong lately that could have been connected back to him—but he looked around, glanced at Albus, glanced at the name on the letter, took a deep breath, and slit it open gingerly right as it began to smoke.

"_**JAMES—SIRIUS—POTTER!"**_

Albus was expecting his mother's voice—sending a Howler seemed more like something his mother would do—but it was his father's voice that exploded through the hall, shaking dust from the ceiling.

"_**I SINCERELY HOPE YOU REMEMBER THE WORDS I SPOKE TO YOU JUST TWO WEEKS AGO, BECAUSE I DO. 'I'M GIVING THIS TO YOU BECAUSE I TRUST YOU, JAMES, YOU'RE MY FIRST SON. MY FATHER PASSED THIS ON TO ME AND I'M PASSING IT ON TO YOU.' REMEMBER? AND THEN YOU USE IT TO SNEAK INTO THE GIRLS' LAVATORY A WEEK INTO YOUR RETURN TO HOGWARTS!"**_

Everyone in the Hall was now staring at James, who had gone redder than the envelope he'd just opened. He was staring at the letter with utter shock, as if it had some strange power to read his mind, because obviously, whatever he'd done in the girls' lavatory, he had not expected anyone to know about it.

"_**I DID NOT RAISE MY SON IN A LOVING AND CARING HOUSEHOLD SO THAT HE COULD GROW UP TO BE A PERVERT WHO SNEAKS UNSEEN INTO THE PLACES WHERE HIS CLASSMATES GO FOR PRIVACY. I DID NOT GIVE YOU MY MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION SO YOU COULD USE IT FOR YOUR SICK PLEASURES. I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU DID IN THERE, BUT I KNOW THAT MONICA MADDEN, JADE ANDERSEN, TANIA MACALLAY, HAZEL BLUEREED, CORA DAVIES, TESSA TAXTON, CHARLOTTE TEMPLETON, AND MYRA LACRALOSE WERE ALL IN THAT BATHROOM WHEN YOU WERE THERE. YOU HAD BETTER APOLOGIZE TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM, AND YOU HAD BETTER STAY OUT OF THAT BATHROOM FOR GOOD, OR I'M HEADING UP THERE IMMEDIATELY AND TAKING BACK THAT GIFT ALONG WITH YOUR BROOM AND YOUR LAST SHRED OF DIGNITY! YOU CAN COUNT ON IT!"**_

As the Howler ended, and a ringing silence was momentarily left in the hall, two girls not far from Albus suddenly started whispering to each other.

"So _that's_ who jinxed me!"

"I'm gonna punch him in the mouth next time I see him—"

Meanwhile, James was floundering around for speech.

"How the heck did he know I was in there?! He's the jerk—gives me this present and tells me its mine, but obviously he'd put some sort of tracking charm or locating device on it—can't believe he doesn't trust me—and I'm not a pervert, I wasn't checking them out or anything, I was jinxing them, what's wrong with that?!"

"You honestly can't believe that he doesn't trust you?" laughed Barry as several angry girls came stomping at James from various corners of the room to demand an apology from him.

_I wouldn't have trusted James with any important item either,_ Albus thought, grinning at his brother's embarrassment. He wondered what item James had received from their father over Christmas—that must have been why James was so happy when Harry took him away to talk to him—and what sort of power it had that let him sneak into the bathroom unnoticed…

The Invisibility Cloak! Of course. But how in the world had Harry known that James used it to sneak into the girls' bathroom? Did he have some sort of tracker that told him where James was at all times? But how had he known which girls James encountered while he was in the bathroom? Did he have some device that told him where _everyone_ in Hogwarts was at any given time? He hadn't heard of anything like that, from his father or anyone, really; the prospect even seemed impossible. He'd ask his father in his next letter.

Somewhere deep inside, he felt a strong pulse of jealousy; his father had given his Invisibility Cloak to James. What would he give Albus? Or were family heirlooms reserved for the oldest son?

O

Later that morning, when Albus settled into his seat in History of Magic, Toby sat on one side of him to ask why James had gotten a Howler at breakfast. On the other side, before Alec arrived, Holly settled in and gave him a warm smile. Alec sauntered in, noticed that people were sitting on either side of Albus, and looked slightly dejected. He settled into a seat on the opposite end of the room near the Greengrass triplets.

"I heard you when you came over to Alec at breakfast," said Holly quietly near his ear as she extracted her notes from her bag. "That was really good of you to do. It's so nice that you care about your friends that much."

Once again, Albus's brain seemed to be coming unhinged. "Er. Thanks. I think he… just needs a little push in the right direction."

Holly raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, a hard shove in the right direction," said Albus. "Maybe a long drag."

Holly laughed, a cute little girlish giggle that made Albus's collar heat up. "That's a good one," she said. "I gotta remember that."

Professor Binns began his lecture, but Holly continued talking to Albus.

"Look what I got for Christmas," she said, pulling up from around her neck a necklace that looked like it had a little shard of ice where a jewel might be. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Yeah," said Albus, wishing he had something as witty as his previous remark instead of a boring assent.

"It does something cool, too," whispered Holly. She flicked the shard of ice, and suddenly it melted into a big drop of water that then divided into five smaller droplets that hung at the bottom of the necklace like pearls. "I love it, I never get tired of that." She dragged her fingertips through the pearl droplets, and they all slid back into one large droplet, and then solidified again in an icicle.

"That's really neat," whispered Albus, admiring the necklace closely. "Is it cold against your skin when it's ice?"

"No, actually, I think that's part of the enchantment. But it does feel slightly wet when it's water."

"Water's sometimes wet, yeah," said Albus, and Holly giggled again.

He felt like he should have been trying to pay vague attention to the lecture, but he very rarely had success in that anyway. He spent most of the class playing Reusable Hangman, part of his Christmas gift from Uncle George, with Holly, gaining accusing looks from Alec every time he glanced in that direction.

"How do you know all these words?" moaned Holly through a laugh as Albus revealed his last word at the bell, which was "Occlumency."

Albus shrugged and said goodbye to Holly for now, hoping that she'd sit next to him again in double Transfiguration that afternoon.

He got more than his wish—during Transfiguration, a very exhausted-looking Professor Desulgon announced that they'd be working in groups of three, and Albus was joined by Alec, and by Holly, who clung to his arm so fast after the announcement that one would have thought Albus was a Portkey that was just about to leave.

"We're going to have some fun today," announced Professor Desulgon, rubbing his eyes, and the class cheered. He yawned before continuing. "I'm going to throw this little Frisbee around the room."

He held up his hand, and displayed a small Frisbee, about two inches across.

"Whoever correctly answers the question I ask will win each member of their group a chance to Transfigure this Frisbee into a picture frame. Answering a question correctly gets you three points, and a correct Transfiguration gets you ten points. The most points after ten minutes wins a special prize, and then we're going back to normal stuff. I'm going to be weaving the Frisbee all around the room while you try to shoot at it. Don't hold back—I covered the walls with Mrs. Skower's Miracle Spell-Absorber, the shots won't bounce off or cause any damage or anything."

Dorothy Cyrosta and Pallie Bell, who had joined forces with Rose, were looking triumphant, as though certain that Rose would win them whatever prize was being offered.

Professor Desulgon cast the Frisbee into the air, and shouted, "Which of the four Founders of Hogwarts taught Transfiguration?"

Rose's hand was first in the air, and Professor Desulgon called on her. "Rowena Ravenclaw," she said confidently.

"Correct! One at a time—shoot."

The class watched as Rose missed by a hair, Dorothy missed by a mile, and Pallie clipped the Frisbee but didn't manage to fully Transfigure it, and it plopped onto the ground, a hollow ring.

"Sorry, can't give you the ten," said Professor Desulgon as he restored the Frisbee to normal and threw it in the air again, weaving it over their heads with a tracing motion from his wand. "Who wrote the first Transfiguration O.W.L.?"

Albus shot has hand into the air before Rose's, before Professor Desulgon had even finished the question. Professor Desulgon called on him, and he realized his gamble had failed… He'd been hoping that the question would be easier than this.

He said the first random name that popped into his head from the textbook. "Imractus Rant?"

"Hey, that's right!" said Professor Desulgon happily, and Albus was dumbstruck, as was the rest of the class. "Three shots, one at a time!"

Albus took a shot, and barely missed the Frisbee, just like Rose. Alec jabbed his wand and also barely missed. Then Holly took her shot and struck the Frisbee dead center, and it morphed into a perfect picture frame, complete with grooved and patterned edges. She beamed with pride.

"Whoa-ho, fantastic! Ten points to team Mc-Pot-dale. Didn't expect one that fast, Miss Glissendale, I'm quite proud of you!"

Holly blushed and sat back down, leaning against Albus happily. Albus started to sweat profusely.

Professor Desulgon had thrown the Frisbee up. "What is the—" Rose's hand shot up. "—blanket spell for Vanishment? Rose?"

"_Evanesco,_" said Rose.

"Bravo, take your shots!"

Rose concentrated for a long time, watching the path of the Frisbee, and then she struck—shouting, "_Evanesco!_"

Some of the Frisbee vanished and it clattered to the floor. The rest of it was slightly transparent.

Rose groaned exasperatedly at the ceiling. "Argh—that was the answer to the question, not the spell I was supposed to use!"

Professor Desulgon laughed. "That's still an O.W.L. level spell!" he roared. "And you still managed to do it better than some of my fifth years! I should give you points for that anyway, but, sorry, I set the rules already!"

Dorothy's shot was closer, but still not as close as Rose's first shot. Pallie went, and struck again, but again she failed to completely Transfigure it, and she sat back on her chair and huffed gruffly.

"What—" Professor Desulgon started; Albus's hand shot up.

This time, he did not finish the question. Instead, he just smiled. "I'm not finishing the question anymore if someone puts their hand up before I'm done," he said. "Sorry, Albus, but those are the breaks. Well? What do you think the answer is?"

The strangest thing happened as Albus flushed with strong embarrassment. His wand twitched, and he felt it kick back a bit. His eyes unfocused, and he plunged into darkness, and then out of nowhere, he was looking at his textbook, which read,

_In the year 1365, Transfiguration was instituted as an official subject of English schools._

"1365," said Albus.

The class laughed, but most of them stopped almost immediately when they saw the look on Professor Desulgon's face.

"Albus?" he said softly. "Was that a guess?"

The class all turned and looked to him as one.

Albus swallowed. "Er—I—I think it was a guess, yeah."

"You _think_ it was a guess?"

The silence was painful.

"Albus, did you just read my mind?" laughed Professor Desulgon.

"Are you being serious, Professor?" asked Riley. "Or are you just joking with us right now? That wasn't really the right answer?"

Professor Desulgon took a piece of parchment from next to him, folded it, and walked over to Riley.

"Andersen, would you mind reading aloud the fourth question on this list I've written?"

Riley stared at the paper for a moment, then held it up and read it. Professor Desulgon pushed it back to the table so that the other answers on the sheet wouldn't unfold and be visible. Riley, completely oblivious, tried to pick it back up again, but Professor Desulgon kept his hand on the paper. Riley swallowed and read.

"Question Four: What year did Transfiguration get instituted as an official subject in all English schools? Answer: 1365."

Other people got out of their seats and crowded around Riley's desk, to see for themselves. They gawked at the paper, then gawked at Albus, and then gawked at the paper again, and then gawked at Albus again.

Holly was gawking, too. Albus shrunk back in his seat. "Lucky guess?" he mumbled.

"I don't think so," said Professor Desulgon. "Your wand—silver lime, isn't it? And a playful one, too. I think it just let you probe my mind for a moment; I was thinking pretty hard about the answer just then."

Riley raised his hand. "Can Albus be disqualified if he can read minds?"

"No more raising your hand before the question is finished," said Professor Desulgon. "And no more probing other people's minds. Let's continue, shall we?"

Albus and Rose did not sweep the game by themselves, because everyone developed the strategy of shooting their hand into the air the second the question was finished. The Greengrass triplets went on a tear and passed Albus and Rose in points when they got a question right and then all three of them successfully Transfigured the Frisbee. But then Albus and Rose started to heat up, and towards the end, they each got the question and the Frisbee twice, until it was the final round and Rose's team led by four correct questions—twelve points—over Albus's team.

"Last question! Last chance! Greengrass trio, you guys are only twenty-nine points behind the lead, you could still take first with a perfect run—Team Mc-Pot-Dale, you're only twelve behind, you get the win if you get the question and one hit on the Frisbee! So here's the question…"

He stared them all down for a moment, and then smiled.

"What—is my first name?"

Albus and Rose were dumbstruck with their hands halfway in the air. Professor Desulgon tutted and looked at the clock. "Not much time left to answer, folks! Come on, someone's gotta know this!"

Riley's hand was in the air.

"Andersen?"

"Is it Joe?"

"No."

Riley's hand was back up.

"Is it Chris?"

"No."

Riley's hand was waving again.

"Is it Robert?"

"No, and I'm instituting a new rule," said Professor Desulgon. "No more than three guesses per team per round."

Riley slid mutinously back into his seat.

Albus probed his memory, and when that didn't work, he tried to probe Professor Desulgon's memory—but it was an accident the first time, and there was no way he was going to replicate what he did. He just tried to picture Helio Wilcox introducing Professor Desulgon at the start-of-term feast… He had used first names…

Rose's hand was in the air, and Albus looked over nervously.

"Rose?"

"Is it… Donald?" she asked.

"Nope," said Professor Desulgon.

Rose was apparently on the right track, though, and a similar-sounding name popped into Albus's head, spoken in Wilcox's voice—

"Albus?"

"Is it Dalton?"

"That's the one!" exclaimed Professor Desulgon. "All right, this is exciting! One try for each of you; you win if one of you gets it."

Albus raised his wand, following the path of the Frisbee with his eyes. He waited, waited until right after it changed direction, and then—

"You can do it, Albus!" called Holly.

The shout startled him, and he missed by several inches. He groaned and fell back into his seat.

"What'd you do that for, you made him miss!" shouted Alec.

"No, she didn't," lied Albus.

Holly's face saddened, even with Albus's denial, and when she aimed for the Frisbee, she hit it—but nothing happened; the Frisbee didn't even change its shape at all. Holly sat back down, too, looking distraught.

Albus was about to shoot a nasty glare at Alec, but felt that, then, the distractions would have come full circle—he probably would have caused Alec to miss. Instead, Albus just watched as Alec turned to the Frisbee with a strange determination on his face, and focused harder than Albus had ever seen him.

"_Conviso Verto!_" he cried, and his spell struck the Frisbee dead-on, transforming it into a picture-perfect frame.

Professor Desulgon thrust out his arms. "That's the game, and there are our winners! Congratulations, Team Mc-Pot-Dale!"

Alec looked stunned at his own success. Albus knocked him on the shoulder, grinning, but Holly was still looking somewhat upset over Alec's previous remark. The fact that the boy who had insulted her was now their group's hero didn't seem to be sitting well with her.

"Go apologize," muttered Albus.

Professor Desulgon rubbed his hands together. "Now, your prize is a simple one: You three get to skip one question on the next test! If you don't know the answer, just draw a big X through the question, and I'll mark it correct."

Alec bumped Holly on the arm, and when she looked up, he whispered something to her that made her smile.

O

"There's the mind-reader!" roared Toby at dinner as Albus sat down with them. He laughed and helped himself to some potatoes as people started shooting questions at him.

"How did you _do_ that?"

"Did you look at the questions before class?"

"Can you teach me how to read minds?"

"Was that all a joke you and Desulgon set up on us?"

"Can you control someone's mind and make them buy me a Soundsplitter?"

"I don't know how I did it!" Albus burst out in a laugh. "I definitely couldn't do it again, I'm sorry, something weird just happened. My wand just…" He tried to find the right phrase. "…Got a mind of its own, I guess."

"Can you read your wand's mind?"

Exo leaned over and was staring closely at Albus's wand. "Silver lime is said to be really good for Legilimency," he said. "What's the core again?"

"Devil's Snare tendril," said Albus.

Exo looked startled for a second. "Oh yeah. That's really unusual, who'd you buy it from?"

"Ollivander's," he replied. "It was one of Luna Lovegood's experimental—"

Suddenly, he remembered a promise he'd made to her, and he gasped—she'd asked him to write to her monthly and describe how the wand was behaving, what it was doing well and doing poorly.

"Oh, no," he said. "I totally forgot!"

"Forgot what?"

Albus ignored Exo's question, and immediately whipped out a bit of parchment and his quill; he was going to do this before he forgot any longer. At least he had some very interesting things to tell her—maybe that would make up for the lateness of his letter.

_Dear Luna,_

_I am so, so, so sorry that I've been forgetting to write to you and tell you about my wand's behavior. I won't forget anymore, I'll do it on the first of every month this year._

_My wand has been really good; best in Transfiguration, I think, and maybe worst in Charms? Although that could just be me. I think you're right about me being able to perform magic with less theory, because I've noticed that I can do things that my classmates take much longer to figure out._

_Oh, and I read one of my professor's minds today in class. I think my wand did it, it sort of kicked back in my hand and then I was looking at what he was thinking. Is this normal? Is this my wand? Do you think it will happen again?_

He bit his lip in thought, and then added,

_Can I control it, do you think?_


	12. The Defense Association

_**Some... interesting things happen in this chapter. If you find any of them ridiculous or unbelievable, please refer to the comments at the bottom. I know some of these things might need unfogging. Also at the end I address other concerns, like things that have been brought to my attention in reviews and private messages. But the most important stuff at the bottom text is in the first two paragraphs, so do read those.**_

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE DEFENSE ASSOCIATION

O

"Thank you all for coming to the first meeting of the Defense Association!" said Professor Longbottom, extending his hands out in a friendly welcome. "This is most of the school, isn't it? Good thing we booked the Great Hall to meet up first.

"As you know, today is the last Friday of the month of January. On this Friday, we will be teaching you how to duel! On our next meeting, which will be the last Friday of February, we will host the Dueling Tournament. Our three meetings after that—the last Fridays of March, April, and May, we will be teaching defensive magic beyond what you'd learn in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class. There may be some overlap, and you don't have to attend both, but it's so nice to see you all here! I think this is twice what we had last year—frankly, I'm not really that surprised, given the current state of the world.

"We will be splitting you up by year, of course, into seven groups. The first years' group and the second years' group will be focusing on Disarming and Dissipating and the like. The third and fourth years will also touch on those, but will go into Shield Charms and some handy other defensive charms and spells. Fifth, sixth, and seventh will develop their Stunning, Full Body-Binds, and similar techniques.

"I will take the seventh years," continued Professor Longbottom, and the seventh years in the Hall exchanged happy glances. Professor Longbottom was an excellent duelist, they knew, and had been the only person known to duel Gallen Ingot and live. Not even Adelina Nelson had done that.

"Professor Weasley will take the sixth years. Professor Westerling will take the fifth years. Professor Valon will take the fourth years, Madam Duopold will take the third years, Professor Desulgon will take the second years, and Professor Plinky will take the first years."

The first years looked generally disgruntled about this; they were hoping for someone cool, like Professor Weasley or Professor Desulgon.

"But before you all go," added Professor Longbottom, "I think we ought to have a demonstration. Professors Plinky and Valon have agreed to duel each other for your pleasure, using only verbal spells so that it will be easier to follow. Make some space, please, and enjoy!"

Albus and the other first years were shoved to the back, where they couldn't see anything. Professor Longbottom seemed to notice, and whispered to Professor Desulgon. They Transfigured the House tables quickly into rising stands and had all the students climb onto them.

Albus was still pretty far away, but now he could see as Professors Plinky and Valon bowed to each other—a hilarious sight, given Professor Plinky's height—and then held their wands like swords at the ready.

And then the hall exploded with their shouts of spells.

"_EMITUS FRANTUS!_"

"_PREDELTO!_"

"_ZENERIA!_"

"_VOREGUR!_"

"_CORRIGORO!_"

"_CASCACENDIA!_"

"_PARSECTUM!_"

"_NEBULATA!_"

"_HOMENUM REVELIO! IMPEDIMENTA! KALAZKOS! SALIMOTOR! INERTUS! DIFFINDO!_"

There were intense flashes of light and loud bangs. Plinky shot a bright flashing spell that careened around the room unpredictably; Valon just managed to call a spell to slash it out of the air before it hit him. Plinky then shot a strong ray of energy directly at his foe, whose spell caused his wand to absorb and redirect it; Plinky took the blast, but first uttered some sort of spell that made Valon experience the same impact, and they both tumbled to the floor. Valon got up first and sent a descending column of fire on Plinky, who shouted a spell to part the fire before it struck. Valon got in another spell—this one caused an intense fog to fill the room, and before Plinky got a look at where he was going, the dueling area was clouded over. Now the students were all leaning forward, as if that would help them see through the fog, and then they heard Plinky shout a spell to reveal Valon's presence. Valon's body made a bright red pulse, and Plinky's reactions were apparently quicker, because he then halted Valon in mid-stride with an Impediment Jinx, caused all the water droplets from the cloud to stick to Valon and freeze, encasing his arms in ice, made Valon suddenly jump twenty feet into the air and hang there limply upside-down, his robes hanging over his face, and then Plinky gave a final slash, and Valon's pants were cut off and fluttered to the ground, revealing gray spotted underpants.

The room howled with laughter, and Plinky set Valon down gently, shaking his hand afterwards and returning the Potions Master's pants. The first years were no longer as upset at having Plinky as a dueling instructor—that battle was a spectacle truly worth seeing, even though it only lasted a few seconds. Plinky had just quite literally dueled the pants off of his opponent.

"I guess we know why Valon does Potions," laughed Exo.

Professor Longbottom stepped forward again as Valon struggled back into his pants, red in the face from either being upside down or from embarrassment, or maybe both.

"All right, we'll divide you up into groups based on your year now! After a few pointers, demonstrations, and lessons, we will divide you up again into four groups per year based on your House. Then, each member of their House will duel each other. The individuals with the most wins will be crowned Champion of their House and year. Then, next month, we will have a few more lessons, and then the finals of the Dueling Championships. If you win your year's mini-tournament, you could win points for your House!

"Seventh years may now follow me out of the Hall."

The oldest and tallest of the group left the Great Hall with Professor Longbottom. Charlie called the sixth years, who followed him out and were followed out themselves by Professor Westerling and the fifth years. Then Professor Valon led the fourth years out with a surprising amount of decorum considering what had just happened, and Madam Duopold took the third years away. Then Professors Desulgon and Plinky took the second and first years, and Transfigured the rising stands back into the House tables.

Professor Plinky led them away to a classroom down the hall; they passed the older students, packed tightly into their own classrooms, some already learning techniques, some already practicing dueling. Then the first years' group turned into an empty room, with the desks all stacked in a corner, and they spread out to watch Professor Plinky instruct them in the art of dueling.

"Dueling!" he squeaked, bouncing up on his heels as if his words needed help to get out of his throat. "An ancient art. Although we're well aware that someone attacking a twelve-year-old would likely lack the manners to properly begin a duel, we will teach you the form nonetheless, as we expect all of you to use it today within your House Championships. It will be required next month in the Dueling Tournaments as well.

"You must first bow to your opponent, and then hold your wand in the accepted combat position," he said, holding his like a sword in front of him. "After the bow, and after both opponents have their wands at the ready, either wizard or both may make their first strike.

"Now we will learn Disarming and Dissipating. The Disarming Charm is a handy little tool that does not, by any means, have to be reserved to dueling. If someone stole your quill, you can Disarm them to get it back—the item that the target is holding will be dropped, if the spell is performed successfully; the aforementioned item will be cast into the air within grasping range, if the spell is performed very successfully; the target will be blasted backwards, if the spell is performed extremely successfully."

He went into the details, the mindset and the wandwork required to cast the spell, and then he let them practice. Since the room was so crowded, only a few pairs could work at a time while the rest of the class observed; Holly grasped Albus's arm and paired herself with him before he could raise an objection. She and Albus went in front of the class first, along with the pairs of Rose and Pallie, Archie and Ashton Greengrass, Scorpius and Sebastian Greengrass, Mia Moon and Danielle Cyrosta, Abigail Quinn and Jasmine Zabini of Slytherin, and a couple of wild-eyed Hufflepuff boys. By the time Professor Plinky called for a switch of pairs, the evidence was clear that Albus was already astonishingly good at Disarming. Holly had managed to make Albus's wand twitch, but apparently, Charms was not her strongest subject, and she couldn't master the spell fully. Rose was, as always, already miles ahead of the rest of the class (excepting Albus); Mia Moon was very good; Scorpius was at a higher level than his partner as well.

Albus took a seat on one of the desks in the corner and watched as Alec and Aidan went to the front to practice, along with Eftan and Sylvester, Jonah and Toby, Riley and Scott, and some other Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins that Albus didn't recognize.

Albus watched as Aidan, like Rose, performed the spell almost perfectly on just his second attempt. Then Alec took _his_ second turn.

Aidan's wand wasn't just knocked out of his hand; it flew directly in a path towards Alec and struck him on the shoulder, burning a hole through his robes. Aidan himself was knocked off his feet and did a somersault through the air, landing right on Plinky.

Alec stared at his own wand, then at Aidan's wand on the floor, and got a bit of a manic grin on his face.

"That was phenomenal, who did that?" choked Plinky as Aidan got off of him, apologizing.

Alec raised his hand, looking immensely proud of himself, as a Disarming Charm from Riley Andersen missed its mark and knocked him sideways onto the ground.

"Excellent work, excellent. One more try for each person, and then next pairs, please!"

They finished after only four rotations. The last few pairs to go were Nina Amualda and Maximilian Arkhoth of Slytherin, Sylvia Sandbuck and Lacy Leigh of Ravenclaw, and two other Ravenclaws named Harry Redmane and Ronald Gerriman—Harry and Ron. Albus had to laugh.

"The most common mistake I saw was the wand movement," said Professor Plinky. "I realize that, to a young mind, it must feel like a larger wind-up will result in a more powerful spell, but this is strictly untrue—quite the opposite, really. You must twirl your wand in a closing spiral, but the smaller and tighter the spiral, the faster and more powerful the spell will become. The greatest duelists can master this spell so well that it looks as though their wand is barely moving, and yet their opponent is disarmed and shot backwards as if from a cannon.

"Now we will learn Dissipation. This is a more complicated maneuver, but seeing as how we haven't much useful magic to teach our first years that isn't covered in your classes, we're going to try and see if anyone can master it. Unfortunately, I doubt that anyone will pick this trick up today, but if you practice hard over the next month, you may get it in time for the next meeting.

"Dissipation is one of those charms, like the Disarming Charm, which can take a number of variations based on how well it is cast. It is one of the most common spells used in dueling, and if your opponent is not expecting it, you will gain a strong advantage if you keep pressing on with your attack. When performed accurately, but without enough power, the Dissipating Charm will allow your wand to swipe through the oncoming jet of an opponent's spell and break it up—dissipate it—before the spell makes contact with you. Obviously, this is only useful with spells that manifest in the air between the duelists, such as Stupefy and Expelliarmus… and it won't keep an Unforgiveable Curse from striking you, but I'm not supposed to mention those to you anyway… you get the point. However, with a more competent—rather, a well-practiced—duelist, the Dissipating Charm will produce a crescent-shaped, blade-like ray which will cut through the spell, and if it strikes your opponent's spell at any point, that spell will fail to produce its desired effect. And the most accomplished casters of this spell can perform it without even a moment's hesitation, without even a visible ray to counter. If you are ever faced with someone who can perform the Dissipating Spell like that, you must always be ready to restart your spell from the beginning.

"Are you ready? The incantation for the Dissipating spell is: '_Effracturo!_' Again, that is, '_Effracturo!_' Say it with me."

"_Effracturo,_" chimed the first years with Plinky.

"Very good, again without wands."

"_Effracturo._"

"Good. Lots of consonant sounds in there, make sure you don't garble the incantation, because it sounds a little too much like '_Efflicturo,_' the spell that gives your opponent a nasty migraine. Also handy, but not what we're aiming for."

Plinky explained the wand movement again, this time a dip down with the wand and then a strong and fast flick upwards. He let them all practice in their pairs again, and assured them that if they couldn't master the spell, it was entirely expected; it took much time and practice to get the motion and the mindset in the proper alignment.

"However, perhaps one or two of you will get to the first level of the spell's power by the time we're done here," he said, and his eyes flickered to Rose, Aidan, and Albus, very briefly.

Albus had never truly struggled with a spell before; this was a new experience. Plinky let them go for longer than with the Disarming Charm, because most people had at least gotten the hang of it a little bit; it was pretty basic. This charm was far more advanced, and no one was getting it right; wands were flying everywhere, because partners were asked to try to Disarm the person who was attempting Dissipation.

Alec and Aidan were in the last group to go, and no one had yet gotten the spell yet. Encouraged by the chance to finally upstage Rose, and accomplish something that she had failed to do, Aidan was giving his magic his all, but still failing. Finally, Professor Plinky told them they could have one more try each, Aidan bellowed, "_Effracturo!_" and gave a perfect flick like they had seen Professor Plinky perform—but there was no change; still his wand let out a small popping noise, like most of the class, but refused to get the spell correct, and his wand flew over to Alec. Frustrated, he half-heartedly caught his wand when Alec threw it back to him, raised it to face Alec and said, "_Expelliarmus._"

Alec raised his wand and set himself. "_Effracturo!_"

The jet broke up when it hit Alec's wand, halting before it struck him.

Every eye in the room was suddenly on him, and Professor Plinky gave a squeak of shock and excitement. "Mr. McKinnon! You've done it! Twenty points to Ravenclaw!"

Alec had never earned any points for Ravenclaw before, and when Professor Plinky awarded him twenty, he looked like to faint as the Ravenclaws cheered and whooped. He looked around, and saw all his friends staring at him with open mouths. He turned slightly red as Professor Plinky approached him.

"McKinnon, on my mark, do it again. I shall attempt to Disarm you, no worries if you cannot repeat the feat—in fact, Dissipation gets harder the more times you successfully perform it, no one quite knows why—but please do your best, I'd like to point out to the rest of the class what it is you are doing right. One, two, three—_Expelliarmus!_"

"_Effracturo!_"

Alec's hand made a small movement downward, as if letting the wand fall with gravity, followed by a flick upwards that was entirely controlled by the wrist, with no motion in any other part of his arm. When the spell made contact with the tip of Alec's wand, it shattered and imploded, and Alec was still holding his wand, looking even more astounded with himself than the first time.

"Outstanding! Unbelievable! Inconceivable! You see, everyone, how McKinnon's movement downwards is barely even visible? He lets the tip of his wand droop and then uses his wrist to whip it back up just as the spell is coming in. Perfect work!"

Alec was performing spells with a mastery far beyond his year. Albus was beginning to see the problem: Alec liked _performing_ magic, but he had a strong aversion to learning about it and being tested on it. Considering this fact, Albus thought of a strategy that might just help boost Alec's grades, and he filed it away in his memory to tell Alec later.

"Alec also has a brilliant mastery of the timing involved!" Professor Plinky was still praising Alec. "Often, your wand will understand the implication of the spell, and you needn't wait to finish the incantation before the spell takes effect… But of course, finishing the incantation is crucial, because it will sometimes affect the tail end of the spell, and how cleanly you can move to casting your next spell. Now, everybody, I'd like you to separate yourselves—I'll change the colors of the walls, please move to the corner that has your House color in it."

Professor Plinky cast charms into all four corners of the room. Albus walked over to the wall that he struck second, which turned from beige to red-and-gold striped. Once everyone was separated, Professor Plinky nodded and caught their attention again by jumping ten feet in the air. He escorted Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin to different rooms, but told Gryffindor that they could use this room. He then informed them that he would be wandering around the halls, peeking in the classrooms to make sure everything was going all right, but that they were to start dueling in pairs until every Gryffindor first year had faced every other Gryffindor first year. The other Houses would do the same. The person with the most victories would win, and play in the Dueling Tournament next month against the other House Champions of their year. Professor Plinky would explain how to break a tie if one occurred.

The ensuing matches were short, because most of the first years could only do one thing: Disarm. Some of them had already learned how to cast minor jinxes and hexes, but mostly the matches took exactly as much time as it took someone to pull off a successful Disarming Charm.

Albus had handy victories over everyone except Rose, who beat him narrowly when she ducked under his spell and retaliated with one of her own. It seemed that, like her mother, she was a naturally gifted duelist. Albus suspected that his chances for taking the first years' tournament were now much slimmer—two people would have to beat Rose in order for him to be placed above her.

But Rose went through the class undefeated. When Professor Plinky saw that they had finished, and went to collect the individual scores, he seemed stunned that Rose had managed a perfect run.

"Well—you're the only one to not lose a single match, Miss Weasley!" he said, applauding while his clipboard hovered next to him. "You'll be seeded first in the tournament, so, next month, the first person you will be facing is the Champion with the _most_ losses… Mr. Malfoy, with three!"

Rose got a crafty little grin on her face—Albus recalled her father urging her to beat Scorpius Malfoy at everything.

Well, now was her chance. If Scorpius had lost even one match, he was no match for Rose.

"Who won the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff rounds?" asked Albus, though he thought he knew the answer to the latter.

"Mr. McKinnon took Ravenclaw with but a single loss," said Professor Plinky. "And Mr. Finch-Fletchley is the champion of my old House, also with one loss."

He drew the attention of the class again, this time by sending up sparks.

"Attention, everyone! Just for a little longer—thank you. The Tournament will be held on the evening of the last Friday of February. I hope you will all come to watch, even if you are not involved in the tournament—it will be an enriching experience. I know that there was not much to appreciate in these duels, but I assure you, the seventh years' duels will be as epic as my duel with the Potions master. Away with you, now, it's getting late. We will see you all in classes, and hopefully again in the Great Hall next month!"

Albus filed out of the classroom in front, and caught the eyes of Aidan, Alec, and Eftan as they exited their classrooms. The four friends stood and chatted for a while before heading off to their dormitories.

"That was actually pretty fun," said Eftan. "I had a great time. I almost won my House Championship, even! I just had four losses."

"To who?" asked Alec.

"To _whom_," corrected Aidan, earning him a scowl.

"Jude Ingram… Abby Quinn… Liz Anitha… and Max Arkhoth," said Eftan. "Lots of dumb errors."

"So you were one of Scorpius's three losses," said Albus. "Who else beat him?"

"Sylvester and Jazz Zabini did. Scorpius actually didn't seem happy to have won, though. I think he doesn't like making a spectacle of himself, getting noticed, you know."

Albus nodded; he did know.

"Who'd you guys lose to?" asked Eftan.

"Just Rose," said Albus. "She went undefeated, I think she's gonna win the tournament—no offense to you guys."

"I look forward to the challenge," said Aidan, grinning.

"Hey!" interjected Alec. "Who said you're even gonna get to face her?"

"I lost to Mia Moon," said Aidan. "She was better than I expected… and prettier." He mumbled the last couple of words and dropped his gaze. "Distracting."

"I lost to Holly Glissendale," grumbled Alec, clearly displeased with that fact; Albus smirked.

"I can't wait for the tournament," said Aidan. "I'm going to get that Dissipation spell down flat for when I finally show Rose who's top dog around here."

"Again, you're forgetting you gotta get by me," said Alec, sticking out his chest. "And I've already got that down. I'm gonna learn as many new spells as possible so I can show _you_ why you shouldn't keep forgetting that I exist!"

The tension in Alec's expression was highly visible.

Eftan distracted him. "We'd better get off to the common rooms, we're supposed to head right back there after the meeting," he said, looking around at the nearly empty hall. "See you guys tomorrow for Ravenclaw vs. Slytherin!"

O

Slytherin's Quidditch victory the next day was far from disputed. The final score was 290 to 40, and now Hufflepuff had to win both its subsequent matches in order to take the Cup. Their next match was against Gryffindor, in mid-February, whose hopes were still untarnished: If they beat Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin, and Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw by enough, Gryffindor would take the Cup despite the early loss.

Thursday of that week would be the first of February, and so on Wednesday, Albus drafted another letter to Luna Lovegood at the wand shop.

He found it very difficult, though. The first time he had explained the wand's behavior, he had a lot to say; it had let him read a professor's mind for a moment, and he had several month's worth of observations to relay. Now, he had less than a month since the last letter, and there really wasn't anything different. He just decided to let her know that nothing had changed—it was better than not sending her a letter at all.

_Dear Luna,_

_My wand's been behaving very well. I don't think there's much of a change from last time—I've still been doing really well in Transfiguration, and Charms still take me a little more effort to work out than other spells. I haven't read anyone else's mind, and I don't think I can repeat whatever I did there._

Albus then remembered Luna's letter in response to his first wand check-up, which was very humorous—she'd also forgotten that she had asked him to write to her monthly about the wand. At the end of that letter, she'd said that she didn't know what caused his wand to perform Legilimency with so little provocation, and so she'd asked him to, in his next letter, detail the situation fully. He thought back to that day in the classroom.

_On the day that I read Professor Desulgon's mind, I was in a group of three: me and my Ravenclaw friends Alec and Holly. We were playing a game where we had to answer a question for three points and, if we got it right, we had the opportunity to shoot a spell at a flying Frisbee and try to turn it into a picture frame for ten points. I raised my hand before a question was finished, and Professor Desulgon called on me but didn't finish the question. I got really embarrassed and then really dizzy, and suddenly I was looking at an open book, and some of the words stood out to me; I read them, and then gave the right answer to the question, even though Professor Desulgon hadn't said anything more than "What."_

_I'll write you next month and I'll pay close attention to my wand to see if there's anything else interesting about it. Hope that Lorcan and Lysander are doing well!_

_-Albus_

Albus finished dinner early that Wednesday, and then decided to send the owl right then; it might not reach Luna for a day anyway, so it would arrive on the first of the month, like he'd promised her.

He got up from the table and climbed up to the Owlery. But as he reached the seventh floor, after a winding, twisting route up to the Owlery that shouted "this is a first year who still doesn't quite know where he's going," he heard raised voices; both were familiar. Helio and Exo Wilcox having a row.

"I'm not missing any more classes than I have to!" shouted Exo.

Helio made his voice louder. "You don't realize—"

"The world is _not_ as dangerous a place for me as it used to be! I don't know why you insist that we do so much to keep me hidden—"

"Do not interrupt me, Exorian! Listen to me without speaking now. The world is not a dangerous place for you. I readily acknowledge this. But it might be dangerous for you again, very soon. There are horrible rumors… And there are horrible facts. If there is indeed a global revelation like we fear… Do you think that Muggles will take kindly to your condition? No. They will want you quarantined, despite the assurances we will give them. At least at first. When the dust settles, you can let everyone know exactly what your 'affliction' is, but until that time, I fear for your safety. Look at you right now—look at you!"

"I'm not as bad as I look," grumbled Exo.

"Worse, probably. Are you all right—can you walk with me, should I carry you?"

"I'M FINE."

"You've used that lie so many times, you must know it has no meaning to me now. The headaches again, too?"

"Yeah. The headaches again."

"Terrible when it goes right in the middle of the afternoon, isn't it. You shouldn't have gone to your afternoon classes, either."

"I can't miss two full days of classes every month!"

"You can if it's for your health!"

There was a pause, then Helio Wilcox spoke again.

"You can feel it all the way on the other side."

"Of course I can."

Albus strained his ears; everything they were saying was cryptic, and though he knew he was eavesdropping, he couldn't help but pray to hear something that would break the code.

"Well, come back to my office. And don't you dare touch my books again."

Albus felt a surge of guilt. Of course Wilcox would have found out that his son had snooped around the office; he had dozens of spies hung in picture frames all around the walls. How could he not have thought of that?

"Okay."

"We shouldn't have these conversations out in the hall. I keep worrying someone's listening—"

Wilcox's head suddenly turned the corner, and Albus's heart pounded as he flattened himself against the wall next to a suit of armor. He breathed in slowly, trying to calm himself, telling himself that Wilcox was not investigating more than sticking his head around the corner, and he had not seen Albus—

"—but that's just paranoia, I know no one's here, they're all at dinner."

Albus kept himself pressed against the wall. He almost shouted out loud when the suit of armor next to him moved—then he thought with a jolt that it would give him away—

But the suit of armor had no intention of making a scene. It just leaned down and whispered quietly to him, "Nosy little one, aren't you?"

Wilcox continued. "Now, you remember that Zayn and I are going to be out of the school for three days, two weeks from today?"

"What? No…"

"Oh, I never told you this? Yes—Zayn and I are taking a few Ministry officials into the Forbidden Forest… We're on the lookout for more mulunctapoli, making sure there isn't a colony anywhere. It's very unlikely we'll find anything, but we've got to ensure the safety of the school, you know. So Zayn and I are taking in Lynwood Chinch, Obydin Auchland, Alana Falagair, Killian Aubrey, Harry Potter, and Ron Weasley. We're going to lead them around our known parts of the forest, and a few remaining unknowns, and see if we can detect any colonies. Valon and I were just in there again recently, and we didn't find anything… The Ministry's got to be involved, though. What I'm getting at is, I won't be here on the fourteenth, fifteenth, or sixteenth…"

"I can live without you for half a week," said Exo coolly.

"Yes, well, just letting you know, I hardly consider it good manners to just suddenly say, 'I'm leaving.' If you need anything, get to Professor Desulgon or Professor Longbottom, all right?"

"I know that."

"Okay. And I know you know that. Let's get you into the office, seriously this time, you look like you're about to collapse."

Albus heard an angry grumble from Exo, footsteps, and then one more word: "_Accordions,_" before he heard something that sounded like the stone gargoyle jumping aside to admit visitors to the headmaster's office, and then one pair of footsteps up the stairs.

But Wilcox didn't follow Exo up into his office. He strode quickly back up the way he'd come, and then suddenly, he started walking swiftly down the hallway where Albus was pressed up against the wall beside the suit of armor, out of sight, but not for long.

Dozens of excuses bounced around his mind, but none of them explained why he was hiding behind the suit of armor. He began to sweat, and held his breath, his last, absurdly pathetic hope being that Wilcox would pass him so quickly that he wouldn't notice a student was there, at least not for a little while, anyway, and then Albus could duck around the other side—

A scream flew halfway out of his throat when suddenly, a flap of fabric appeared out of thin air and lifted itself above the level of his head—and James was standing there, with a devilish smirk, under the Invisibility Cloak. He threw it over Albus and shuffled against the wall as well, and Wilcox passed by them without a second glance.

"Well, well," murmured James from under the Cloak. "I thought I was the only one spying on Wilcox to find out what the heck's going on with his son."

"I wasn't spying," said Albus quietly. "I was sending a letter, and I, er…"

"Happened to accidentally wind up listening behind a suit of armor?" said James. "Come on. You need something better than that. When Wilcox is coming and you're suddenly cornered, you throw your wand across the hall, act innocent, and tell him when he finds you that someone Disarmed you in the hall as a prank and your wand flew up here. You are a tactless sneak, Al, I'm disappointed."

He pulled the Cloak off when he was sure Wilcox was gone, then saluted Albus and trotted off down the hall. "And by the way, the Owlery's this way, it's not behind that suit of armor."

"I know," said Albus, annoyed.

As James cantered off, Albus remembered something he'd said.

"Wait!" he said, and James turned around. "Did you actually find out what's wrong with Exo Wilcox?"

"He's got a worrywart for a dad," said James, "but other than that… I've come to the conclusion that he's a werewolf that doesn't transform on the full moon."

"What?" said Albus, confused.

"He shows all the symptoms," said James. "Fatigue and frailty right before and after the full moon, but I've seen him during the full moon and he looks just fine… often even better than fine. And they never say in their private conversations exactly what this 'affliction' is."

"You've snooped in on their private conversations before?"

"Either he's got some weird condition I've never heard of, or he's just faking it to get out of classes… but he seems to hate missing them," said James. "Either that or he's just really playing it up. If so, I salute him—he's a natural, and a great actor." He saluted Albus and then resumed his retreat to Gryffindor tower. "Cheers, little brother."

"Cheers," mumbled Albus, upset with himself at having pried into Exo's private family matters. Now that he had encountered his brother doing the same thing, he felt even worse—it was bound to be a less-than-noble act.

The suit of armor watched James go, shook its head in disapproval, and resumed keeping its post. Looking closer, Albus saw scars from battle on the suit. He wondered where and when they originated, and why they hadn't been magically restored. Maybe the suit of armor wore its scars proudly as mementos of whatever battle in which they had been gained. Maybe it was even from the Battle of Hogwarts.

He then remembered that he had a letter in his pocket which needed to be sent, and he finished his journey to the Owlery. It took him a while to orient himself, having been thrown off by the near discovery and the sudden appearance of James, but eventually he found the door.

Just as he finished tying his letter to Flibley's leg, and sent him out the window, he heard the door open behind him. He whirled around, expecting Wilcox and a barrage of questions about why he had been eavesdropping, or someone like Harry Lussen, but it was—

"Oh," said Victoire. "Hey, Al. How're you doing?"

"Good," said Albus, relieved that it wasn't Wilcox, or an older Slytherin, or Harry Lussen, who still hadn't let go of a grudge against Albus. "You?"

"Oh, good, just… sending a letter, you know," said Victoire, shrugging and holding up a letter sealed with a ribbon that twisted itself into a heart at the end. Realizing this, she tucked it back out of sight as she walked to her owl. "You know it's Valentine's day coming up, and there's a Hogsmeade trip, and… hoping maybe to meet someone there…" She blushed slightly and took her letter back out as she approached her owl, and Albus was pretty sure that the initials on the front were _T. L._ He was also pretty sure that he knew the person with those initials to whom Victoire would be writing.

Then Albus's fear was actually confirmed—Harry Lussen burst into the Owlery, along with a couple other seventh year Gryffindors, one geeky-looking, one absurdly muscular. Victoire wheeled around, raising an eyebrow.

"Heard you went off to send a letter," snorted Lussen, glancing at the letter with the heart-shaped ribbon.

"Yes," said Victoire, "to my _boyfriend,_ Harry."

"To your boyfriend Harry?" sniggered Lussen's geeky sidekick.

"Just get out of here, okay?" sighed Victoire. "You're never getting a date with me, and I would rather die than be seen with you on Valentine's Day. Why can't you be satisfied with your swine of a girlfriend?"

Lussen didn't respond, but one of his tiny eyes twitched. He held up his hand, and Albus hadn't noticed that he was holding his wand—he had been hiding it in his sleeve.

With a twitch of his wand, Victoire's letter burst into flames. She yelped and tried to smack it out, then drew her wand but was quickly Disarmed by Lussen's brawny henchman.

Victoire turned to him in fury. "You think doing something like that's going to make me _like_ you?" she screeched, her face turning red, veins bulging, and starting to look almost animalistic. Albus had seen this a few times in his cousins and Aunt Fleur—when they were angry, they seemed to undergo a sort of transformation, and they were no longer beautiful but terrifying. It might have been the dash of Veela heritage he knew them to share.

Lussen, however, was not deterred. He grinned like an idiot, eyes not completely focused, and said, "You'll realize eventually that you can't—" He hiccupped. "That you can't deny your attraction to me forever."

Victoire's jaw had dropped when Lussen hiccupped, and she sputtered through the rest of his speech before retorting. "Are you _drunk?_" she said, appalled. "Lussen, what the _hell_ were you drinking today?"

"A lot," replied Lussen, and his nerdy friend giggled again. He punched his friend in the arm, and then giggled himself. "Oh, shut up, Coombs," he said through the giggles.

"You shut up," said Coombs, greatly laboring on the "sh" in "shut."

"Come on, pretty girl, give me some Valentine's day love," he cooed, holding out his hands and making a little kissing noise.

"Get the bloody hell away from me, you pervert," said Victoire, edging towards her wand.

"No, no," said Lussen, and he blasted her wand right out an open window. Victoire gasped and ran to the window, staring down the seven stories to her wand as it spun to the ground. "No, no, none o' that." He turned to Albus. "Betterrrrun along. It's past your bedthime, I tink."

And then he rushed at Victoire and tried to press his lips to hers.

Victoire slammed a knee into her attacker's stomach, then whirled around and elbowed him hard in the face, and he went down. Then she found herself at the wrong end of the two wands of Lussen's henchmen as Lussen scrambled to his feet, holding his face.

"She just doesn't realize she wants it," said Lussen. "Stun her, Carlsbad."

Victoire's eyes widened in real fear, and Albus's widened in real anger. He held up his wand, not exactly certain what he was going to do, and growled, "Get away from her."

"Albus, just run and get someone," hissed Victoire.

Lussen tilted his head, and then held up his wand. "_Stupefy!_" he shouted, before Albus could react.

But his jet missed Albus completely, and sailed across the room to hit a poor owl that was just flying in. Lussen looked at his wand and smacked it against his palm, as if the wand was the reason he failed. He turned to his bulkier henchman, Carlsbad, and said, "You do it."

"_Stupefy!_" shouted Carlsbad.

"_Effracturo!_" yelled Albus.

A crescent-shaped blade of energy just like Alec's blasted out of Albus's wand and sliced through the red Stunning jet, and then hit Carlsbad's hand so hard that he dropped his wand and tipped over, losing his balance. Albus turned his wand to Coombs and yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_" and Disarmed him quickly. Victoire raised an eyebrow, impressed; since she was more skilled, Albus wondered if he should give her his wand.

But that made him imagine Lussen blasting Victoire's wand out the window, and then trying to snog her, and an intense rage filled him, boiling beyond the point of any he'd experienced, and his hand moved to point his wand at Lussen, who was readying his wand again.

The next thing he knew, his mind jumped across the room and filled Lussen's head—that was the best way to explain it, anyway. Lussen suddenly fell to the ground, clutching his head, and he started screaming. Horrible memories were whizzing through Albus's mind like he was going by them on a high-speed train, but they weren't his memories—they were Lussen's. Darkness, pain, fire, and fear were bursting their way into Lussen's mind, and he collapsed on the ground, twitching, moaning, and a wet stain slowly spread across the front of his robes as tears trickled down his face and he sobbed, "Stop… stop… stop…"

Victoire had just been about to reach for Albus's wand, but she had frozen, staring at Lussen. Her gaze shifted over to Albus, and she gave him a look that clearly said, _What the hell?_ Albus would have liked to respond with a look, but he didn't have one that clearly stated the fact that he had no idea what the hell had just happened.

Lussen's henchmen had gathered up their wands and raced out of the room. Albus gave Victoire a look, and then she grabbed his wand and pointed it out the window.

"_Accio Wand,_" she said, and when she had seized her wand as it zoomed up from the ground, she tossed his back and scratched her head. "Er… nice? Can you… teach me that one?"

"I don't know that one, so probably not," said Albus, staring at Lussen, who was still writhing on the ground, weeping.

He thought about the letter that he had just sent to Luna, and wondered if he should send another. No, that could wait until next month. Right now, he couldn't wait to get out of the Owlery.

He turned to Victoire, and she nodded; they sprinted out of the Owlery together. She was still asking him how he had done what he did, but he still didn't know, though he was drawing a conclusion based on his experiences so far in magic.

The first time he had ever performed magic, in that outburst of energy, he was angrier than he'd ever been in his life. When he had read Professor Desulgon's mind, he was very nervous because Holly was hanging out with him, and embarrassed at having made a fool out of himself in front of the whole class by raising his hand before Professor Desulgon had even said the first two words of the question, and then being asked to answer the question. And just now, he had been far more furious than he was at his seventh birthday party when he destroyed the house. Each time, it had been a strong emotional moment, and it had resulted in him performing magic he didn't know he had.

He was thrilled to be able to perform this sort of magic, but at the same time, disappointed at the fact that the most useful part of it all—the ability to control it—was beyond his reach, probably out of his skill level for another five or six years, from the little that he knew of his future curriculum. It was going to be very annoying to proceed with his years under the knowledge that he had this power, but would not be able to master it until he was almost out of school.

And what would happen if he lost his wand? What if it went missing, or was stolen or broken? He felt like the wand was the only reason he was so extraordinary, and if it was gone, he'd lose that advantage. Would he even be as good in his classes if he had someone else's wand? Why was his so strong?

He also wondered why no one else in his year had outbursts of extraordinary magic like this. It seemed to be an incredible event whenever this did occur to him. He gathered, from the reactions of Professor Desulgon, Luna Lovegood, and his parents, that no eleven-year-old had really managed to read minds before. Why, then, could he? And would this event produce a similar response?

Victoire kept a lookout while he climbed into the portrait hole. As he walked to his dormitory, he wondered to himself if this would raise the already sky-high expectations that were set for him. He had just been thinking he could reach them, but now people wouldn't just expect him to be the son of the legendary Harry Potter—he was bound to be considered to be the mind-reading, seventh-year-thrashing son of Harry Potter. And now he'd made several seventh year enemies who had already proven that they had no problems attacking a first year, and who now had an extreme grudge to repay.

Had it been worth it to get Victoire out of a tight spot? Of course. But he couldn't help cringe every time he thought about how much people would grow to expect of him once the story got out.

He walked into the dormitory, and stared.

Exo was sitting on his bed, reading a book next to the soft light of a lantern.

Albus had heard Exo walk into the headmaster's office just minutes ago. He had also heard Wilcox detailing Exo's appearance—mainly, that Exo looked like he was "about to collapse." And here, Exo was looking one hundred percent healthy, even stretching and switching positions as he read. Albus wondered what James would think about this.

He climbed into his bed, putting Exo's curious condition out of his mind yet again. It wasn't his business. He spent an hour tossing in his bed, trying to drift off to sleep, doing his best to not think about the reignited popularity he'd be experiencing at breakfast the next morning.

* * *

_**Ok... Now to address some things in this chapter, just to make sure everyone's following and believing. IF THIS IS TOO LONG FOR YOU, SORRY, I MAY HAVE WRITTEN A LITTLE MORE THAN I HAD ORIGINALLY INTENDED, THE FIRST TWO PARAGRAPHS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT!**_

_**First there were the spells which are supposedly "beyond the level of a first year," which have been seen in more than just this chapter. I'll just make a note here that will carry over to the series as a whole, which will also be noted in an upcoming chapter: These things were beyond the level of a first year when they were created. The theory and the wandmaking have both become much more effective, and this is why students are able to do things that the previous generations could not-I didn't just decide to fulfill my fantasies and put a bunch of child prodigies in Albus's year (though they are intelligent kids).**_

_**This also applies to Albus. His wand is experimental, and is very aggressive, as Luna stated. It's good in combat, but right now, since he doesn't know much magic, the wand is almost too much to handle-it's not getting the amount of practice from Albus that it wants, and it's releasing magic as a result. Professor Desulgon will explain most of this in Chapter 14 next week, but I don't want anyone to get lost in this now, so that's why I'm noting it here, too. Also, Harry Lussen's mind was affected by alcohol, so it was easier to penetrate. He wouldn't be able to do that to someone healthy. (Desulgon was very sleepy when Albus read his mind.) So, there's an explanation for a potentially confusing or unbelievable plot point.**_

_**Question and answer time! I'll bring up some stuff that people have asked or pointed out in private messages or reviews (both of which I love to see).**_

_**Yeah. Albus is kinda perfect. Lol. He's everything Harry would have wanted to be when he was a first year... what every kid probably wanted. He's cute, famous... and everything in magic comes so easily to him! He's the whole package, isn't he?**_

_**That's going to make it so much harder for him when things stop coming easily to him, isn't it?**_

_**I couldn't have Albus and Harry be the same person, similar as they are. Harry is a very gifted wizard, though of course not the ultimate epitome of talent. But in such a positive environment, Albus is flourishing and doing everything right. By no means, though, is this going to stay that way. He's getting the basic stuff really quickly, but advanced magic (like Legilimency!) is going to frustrate him. Badly. I usually don't like to give away too much, but in reflection, Albus really does seem like such a flawless being that I felt the need to mention this. Then again, a lot of people in Albus's year are doing really well in magic because of the improvements made to wands; it's not as big a deal, relatively, apart from the mind magic part.**_

_**Here's an oops: According to one person, J.K. Rowling said in an interview (apparently posted in the Gryffindor common room in Pottermore) that if she'd written the series, Albus would be in Slytherin. (I don't have a Pottermore.) So, oops. We didn't know that when we were planning this, and literally, if I put Albus into Slytherin, the entire sixth and seventh books would fall apart. In addition, I feel that Albus was a character left to the fans to develop, and my Albus is a Gryffindor through and through.**_

_**Plot-wise, there's not too much "big stuff" happening at the moment. A lot of it is Quidditch and dueling and stuff. Well, next chapter goes back to the plot; fourteenth chapter is the dueling tournament; last few chapters dive into the plot more. Next book is the shortest, by chapter and most likely by length, and it starts to have some pretty huge stuff happening in it. Third book, there's a lot of big stuff. Then from the fourth book on, there is pretty much nothing but action. That's a ways away, but I am SO looking forward to writing the fourth book that I am really writing faster than I've ever written, just to get faster to the point where I can start working on the next installments. But not that I'm rushing! I promise, I edit and think a lot about everything I write.**_

_**Are there too many original characters for your tastes? Blame J.K. Rowling, she introduced the most original characters... I'm pretty sure hers outweigh ours! I know it's a lot for a fanfiction, but this is also pretty long for a fanfiction and I'm going to need a lot of people. You don't have to remember every single name, I'll reintroduce them when they come back in future installments if they're important, I promise!**_

_**What happened to Hagrid? He and Maxime are living together with Grawp in the French countryside. He's now the gamekeeper at Beauxbatons; he's even learned some gruff and scratchy French. He'll be back, don't you worry!**_

_**Why do I write fanfiction? I do write novels, too. But I'm young. I like fanfiction, I like thinking about future/alternate events in my preferred stories, and I like sharing these ideas. And it's practice. The more I write, the better I'll get.**_

_**That's all! (wow I wrote a lot.) See you Friday for one of my favorite chapters!**_


	13. The Debates

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

THE DEBATES

O

As Albus had predicted, the story that he had spanked the seventh years Harry Lussen, Jacob Carlsbad, and Mervin Coombs in a three-on-one duel spread like wildfire. It was precisely the type of story that everyone in the school mentioned in passing to everyone else. It had Lussen and his henchmen simmering in rage, but James, who had come over to shake Albus's hand and proclaim to the entire Great Hall that he was the proudest brother in the world, put Albus's fears to rest with a simple observation: Everyone now knew that Harry Lussen had it out for Albus, and so any attack on Albus would immediately be assumed to be Lussen's retribution. There was no way Lussen could get Albus back without everyone knowing exactly who was behind it.

Albus still couldn't help but worry every time he walked through the hall. After all, everyone knowing that Albus had beaten Harry Lussen in a duel was bad enough. But now, every student at Hogwarts knew that Harry had been drinking, which was forbidden on school grounds; that he had tried to grope Victoire, even considering Stunning her to do so; that he was now given detentions until the year's end, and was kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team; and that he had wet himself at the hands of a first year. Lussen was beyond boiling mad. Steam seemed to erupt from his nose whenever he saw Albus in the hall, and his little eyes were burning with fury. Albus tried as hard as he could to keep as much distance as possible between himself and Lussen.

However, as Albus had mostly gathered, barely anyone in Hogwarts liked Harry Lussen. So, it seemed like wherever he met Lussen, there were always several people who made a point of walking between them, and winking at Albus or glaring at Lussen. Mostly they were Gryffindors, but several Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws helped him out, too. This hero treatment was still going on even when two weeks had elapsed since the incident.

O

On Valentine's Day, Wilcox addressed the hall at breakfast.

"Students! Professor Valon and I will be out for the remainder of the week. Don't jump up and cheer just yet—you're still going to have your Potions classes!"

The students suppressed a collective groan of disappointment.

"I know, I know. I apologize. Madam Duopold will be overseeing the Potions classes—yes, she can do more than ride a broomstick—behave yourselves for her, she reports directly to Professor Valon. Now, there are some slight complications, as Madam Duopold does not normally oversee classes, and she has other duties. So, to accommodate this, all students of the same year will take Potions at the same time."

Wilcox went on to explain how the schedule would be changing; it took a very long time for him to explain how the sixth and seventh years would be having classes. Right as he finished, and Albus was about to go back to breakfast, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned around, and his father was standing there, grinning.

"Hey, Al."

"Dad!" said Albus, and he got up from his seat to hug his father. People all around the hall were whispering and pointing at Harry Potter, but Albus did his best to ignore them, a talent at which his father was clearly well-practiced. It continued to be difficult for Albus, however.

"Somebody tells me you've been invading people's minds," said Harry, grinning, and Albus reddened. "I think that's a little worse than invading a girl's lavatory, should I have sent a Howler?"

Albus shook his head. "I forgot you were going to be here!"

Harry frowned. "Nobody was supposed to know I was coming…"

It was a good thing Albus was already slightly red, because he would have reddened from embarrassment—he had found that out through eavesdropping on Wilcox and Exo in a private conversation.

"Exo told me," said Albus quickly, and he hoped his father wouldn't check that.

"Ah, I keep forgetting, Helio's little boy," said Harry. "Is he doing all right? Not too sick?"

"He misses his afternoon classes about once a month," said Albus, feeling a bit of excitement—did his father know what Exo's condition was? If so, he might be able to worm it out of him someday.

"Poor Exo. Anyway, I'm going to go say hi to James, and maybe slap him around a bit for that stunt he pulled earlier this year, and then I have to go with Wilcox and the others down into the Forbidden Forest. Do me a favor. Don't tell anyone exactly why we're here, all right? And tell Exorian not to tell too many people, either."

"All right," said Albus, slightly deflating. He hadn't seen more than a few hours of his father in the last half of a year, and his father still was constantly in a hurry. "Love you, Dad."

"Love you back, Al," said Harry, and he tousled his son's hair before walking off swiftly to the front of the Great Hall, where several familiar faces and several unfamiliar ones were deep in conversation.

O

Albus only had Potions on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays, so the day Professor Valon left was the only day he had Potions with Madam Duopold. Normally, he had Potions after double Transfiguration at the end of the day, but the class was inserted into the break between his first class, History of Magic, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, so that all of the first years could have the class at the same time.

He came back to the Great Hall to find that it was overflowing with his fellow first years. Madam Duopold was sitting at the front, reading a magazine in a pose very reminiscent of Professor Valon.

"Everybody, just get to a table," said Madam Duopold. "It doesn't matter which one, but it can't be a table that has any ingredients on it. Just make sure there are a few people in your House who are close to you so that you can refer to them if you fu—er, if you screw up."

Albus looked one direction, and saw none of his friends; he looked the other direction and saw Alec. He waved to Alec, then turned around again to look for more friends, and suddenly Holly Glissendale was about six inches from his face again. She waved at him.

"Hi there!" she said, as brightly as always.

"Hi," said Albus, smiling back.

Alec joined them and raised his eyebrows at Albus, then gave a nod at Holly and grinned. Albus ignored him and struck up a small conversation with Holly until Madam Duopold spoke again, her voice amplified to pierce the volume of the chatty Great Hall.

"Everybody at a table? Got your cauldrons? Good. So, there are tables scattered across the hall with ingredients; get some. You'll be making the first half of a simple Sleeping Draught, though Zayn told me that he doesn't expect anyone to make a potion that does more than make him yawn, and that's okay. Here's what you'll be doing…"

As she went through the task, Holly walked with Albus to get ingredients for the Sleeping Draught. She started talking about how today was Valentine's day, and it was funny that Valon wasn't here, she wanted to make the joke to him that it was "Valontine's Day." As they walked back, Albus glanced up at their table and saw Alec with a very mischievous grin. He didn't like that look.

Sure enough, Alec was insufferable during the entire period, and Albus couldn't concentrate on his potion. First he kept saying things like "We should be making love potions, it's Valentine's day! Who would you give a love potion to, Holly?" Then he began humming very loudly, and Albus realized after a few lines that he was humming "A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love." His cheeks were completely red and his potion was atrocious by the end of the class period, and Holly looked a little flustered.

Albus looked around the Great Hall after the class period ended mercifully, looking for the rest of his friends, who might drag Alec away for him. He noticed something odd about the Great Hall.

As Rose passed by, he tapped her on the shoulder and asked her, "Is the Great Hall… wider than usual…?"

Rose groaned exasperatedly.

"Haven't you read _Hogwarts: A History_?"

Albus laughed. "No. So is it?"

"The Hogwarts Great Hall can expand as necessary, if you know the proper incantation," said Rose. "It's because the founders anticipated that there might be more students in the future. The Great Hall is also always expanded further during exam time and Apparition lessons so that the individual desks or hoops or whatever can be far enough apart."

"That's neat," said Albus.

"I knew that," said Holly, appearing at Albus's side. "Why didn't you ask me?"

Albus looked over at Rose. "Asking Rose about the things I don't know is a conditioned response," he said. (It was true.)

Rose smirked at Holly, and as Holly broke away to follow the Ravenclaws, Rose leaned up to Albus.

"So what's this thing going on with you and Holly?" she asked under her breath.

Albus reddened.

"We're friends," he said quickly. "What else were you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing," said Rose as brightly as Holly, and she trotted away looking happy, which made Albus worry what she was happy about—hadn't she heard him say they were just friends?

He followed her begrudgingly to Defense Against the Dark Arts, where she kept shooting happy glances at him, which frustrated him so badly that he couldn't take proper notes on what differentiated a Karmer from a Charmer, although it did seem rather intuitive. Why did everyone insist on making this more than it was?

He glanced outside at the Forbidden Forest. All the leaves had gone, except on some of the fur-growing trees. His father was in there, with seven other excellent witches and wizards, but Albus was still nervous about their safety, and an agitated forest spirit with immense powers tormented his dreams.

O

"Welcome to our fourth of six Quidditch matches on the year: a fierce match-up of Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff! It's time for James Potter to see if he can make good on all his trash talk! Can he beat the unbeatable Euan Yodelhop?"

There were equal screams of "Yes" and "No" in response to Barry's question, and the players took their places on the field as Madam Duopold released the Snitch. The older Gryffindors were singing a song, the lyrics of which sounded like "Cheryl Is Our Queen."

"They're off! Let's see about Gryffindor's new Chasers—that's right, everyone, we've got two new Chasers on the team. Harry Lussen—Harry Pissin', as some have started calling him, or Harry Leakin'—sorry, Professor Longbottom, I'm just relaying intellectual insights—anyway, Harry Wussen won't be joining us today, due to a severe case of being a nutcase, and he was banned from the team for the rest of the year. In protest, his girlfriend Erika Jordan resigned, although that was pretty pointless, but nobody really cared, she sucked anyway—oh, yes, Hufflepuff scored, sorry, forgot about that, that was Devon Elbiell, prized new recruit of the Hufflepuff Chasing squad. Anyway, our two new recruits, the sixth-year twins Anthony and Elizabeth Lidwipp, get control and dribble it down the field—wow, they're great! Look at them go—why haven't they tried out for the team before? Tony to Liz—Liz to Tony—Tony to Dominique—SHE SCORES! Ten to ten!"

Albus watched his brother soar around the stadium on his new Sheerer 720, and wondered what it would feel like to be one of the players.

James suddenly snapped into a dive and tore fiercely to the ground. At about the same time, Euan Yodelhop turned sharply and shot straight across the ground towards the same spot.

"Already, Potter and Yodelhop are barreling towards what would appear to be the Snitch, unless someone from the audience is casting a reflection from their watch! No, it's certainly the Snitch—they're in the same line, they look to be the same distance away! Who's gonna—OW! Oh, that was painful to watch!"

Neither James nor Euan had diverted from their path, and both had collided; the Snitch shot away and zigzagged out of sight.

"They're both getting up—give 'em a hand, folks! They're back on their brooms, James with a nasty cut on his arm, Euan with nothing but a slight ruffle to his hair that somehow makes him look even more handsome. James is immediately on the lookout, alert as a niffler on the hunt."

"Look," said Eftan, poking Albus on the shoulder.

Professor Wilcox was getting into his seat. Albus held Eftan's pair of binoculars close to his face, and zoomed in on Wilcox. The headmaster looked as pale and sick as his son did every month.

"They're back," said Eftan. "Is your dad here?"

"He might be," said Albus, and he swung the binoculars around, looking. He didn't have to look far—his father was sitting in the staff section of the stands, chatting with Professor Longbottom, looking less grim—certainly not happy, but far from nervous or distressed. Harry then broke off the chat with Professor Longbottom and turned to watch his son.

Barry was yelling about a brilliant possession from Gryffindor that made it 20-10, but Hufflepuff's Skyler Dock and Eileen Dock pulled an equally impressive move to tie the game. Harry watched intently as James zoomed around the field, and suddenly, James looked towards the staff table and saw his father.

Albus turned his binoculars back to Harry, to see his father wave and then point to his eyes, saying _Keep your eyes out looking._

James nodded and turned back around to the field, circling it at ever faster rates, and Albus could tell he was trying as hard as possible to impress his father, but the only way he could do that was if he caught the Snitch before Euan Yodelhop.

Albus turned his gaze over to Euan, and got a small shock—one of Euan's eyes was squeezed shut, and it looked like it was hurting him. Euan nevertheless continued his diligent rounds of the stadium, but he was only looking through one eye the entire time.

Thirty to twenty, Hufflepuff, and then forty to twenty, sixty to twenty, eighty to twenty, and the initial rush of talent from Gryffindor's new Chasers was beginning to wear out as the Hufflepuffs learned their tricks. Cheryl Wood took a time-out, and the Gryffindors came back with three straight goals off of spectacular plays, and Cheryl began saving every goal the Hufflepuffs threw at her.

Suddenly, after the score had remained eighty to fifty for a while, Barry's excited shouts echoed through the stadium: "It's the Snitch! That's the Snitch! James Potter's seen it before Euan Yodelhop!"

Euan was coming in on James from a terrible angle, too: James was in the center of the field and happened to be between Euan and the Snitch. The golden ball took a sharp turn upward, and James sped after it. Euan turned his broom and shot the diagonal into the sky, but it was too late—

"POTTER'S GOT THE SNITCH! JAMES POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS, TWO HUNDRED TO EIGHTY! EUAN YODELHOP'S UNDEFEATED CAREER AT HOGWARTS IS OVER IN HIS SECOND-TO-LAST APPEARANCE! FOR THE FIRST TIME IN SIX YEARS, HUFFLEPUFF LOSES A QUIDDITCH MATCH!"

The cheer from the Gryffindor stands was one of the loudest sounds that Albus had ever heard. He was screaming at the top of his lungs, mostly into Aidan's shocked face. The Hufflepuff team all landed and patted each other's backs, comforting Euan Yodelhop, though the blond was very sporting about it. He walked over to the Gryffindor team's celebratory huddle to shake James's hand, but James wasn't with them. Albus turned the binoculars up to the stands and found his brother in the staff section, hugging his father tightly. Harry was beaming with pride.

O

On the following Monday, Albus sat near Alec and Holly in History of Magic and had a long discussion about Quidditch.

"Hufflepuff could still win if they beat Slytherin," said Alec. "Gryffindor's gotta crush Ravenclaw if they have even a small chance, and I don't think they're gonna be able to crush us. Either way, for Gryffindor to win, Slytherin's gotta lose to Hufflepuff, but if that happens, then Hufflepuff still has a chance of winning. I think it's too small of a window for Gryffindor to fit through if they're going to take the Cup, but then again, Gryffindor has an advantage: They play the last match of the season, so by the time they play, they'll know exactly how many points they need to get in order to win."

"Ravenclaw could still win if they beat Gryffindor by, like, five hundred," said Holly.

Alec laughed, but Albus nodded. "No, that's true. Gryffindor will probably be holding out as long as possible. Say Gryffindor needs to win by fifty: They won't grab the Snitch until they're up by fifty, and James will try to block the other Seeker, so the game seriously could last long enough for Ravenclaw to go up by five hundred, if Gryffindor's Chasers are outmatched. Even down five hundred, James still wouldn't grab the Snitch in case the Chasers make a comeback."

"Class, would you please pay attention for a moment?" said a monotonous voice from the front.

The entire class fell silent immediately.

It wasn't because Professor Binns had such command over them—hardly any teacher could instantly make a class silent. The cause for the silence, Albus guessed from his own experience, was because Professor Binns had never addressed them before—he simply walked into class and began lecturing in his horrendously boring drone. Most of the class suspected that he wouldn't even realize if the classroom was empty.

"Litinia?" said Professor Binns.

The class looked around, confused, until a portrait in the back of the room spoke. "Yes, Cuthbert?"

The class turned around to look—the portrait had always been there, but the aura of the classroom seemed to smother all moods of interest, and so nobody had ever really looked around the classroom before. The portrait was of a young woman with light brown, curly hair, wearing a tight-fitting green dress and large green earrings with a flower in her hair.

"Would you please inform Helio Wilcox that we are ready?"

"Of course." The portrait named Litinia turned and walked sideways out of her frame.

"You are going on a field trip," said Professor Binns, and without even a word of explanation, he floated back through the blackboard the way he'd come, and disappeared.

The class gawked at each other. Something _interesting—_in _History of Magic?_ A _field trip?_ What was going on? Had someone Confunded the entire room?

Albus pinched himself, and it did indeed hurt, so he wasn't dreaming. He looked around and laughed as he saw more arms being pinched.

Litinia returned to her portrait shortly after and announced, "Professor Wilcox will be down momentarily to escort you."

"Where are we going?"

"He feels that it is necessary that students learn more about our political system, and become knowledgeable about current issues," said Litinia. "He is going to escort you to the International Confederation of Wizards debates on the repeal of the International Statute of Secrecy."

There were gasps and appreciative nods all around the room.

"We're actually going to watch the debates?" asked Arthur Acromere.

"Yes," said Litinia. "In person. Professor Wilcox has arranged for all classes to attend. The debates are right in our country, in the Ministry of Magic."

Excited whispers broke out everywhere as Scott asked, "What about the rest of our day?"

"I believe you will be returning after the length of two class periods," said Litinia, "so, before lunch? You'll miss one class."

Albus leaned over his desk and hailed Exo a few desks over. "Did you know about this?" he asked the headmaster's son.

Exo shook his head. "Dad didn't even tell me. Maybe he didn't want to tell us in case he couldn't get permission to bring us."

"I believe that was the reason, yes," said Litinia.

The classroom fell silent for a moment.

"What's your name again?" asked a Ravenclaw who Albus believed was named Whitney Mallagora.

Litinia smiled. "Litinia Darstary," she said. "I was a Herbology professor at Hogwarts seven hundred years ago. Do you know a Professor Phyllida Spore? She wrote most of your Herbology textbook, I believe, and became Headmaster in 1357… She was a pupil of mine."

_1357?_

That would make Litinia…

"Hey," said Albus, turning around to face her. "Lit—Professor Darstary?"

"Litinia is fine," said Litinia, smiling.

"When were you born?"

"I was born in 1248," said Litinia. "I taught here from 1296 to 130—"

"Do you know anything about Di—about the mulunctapoli?" asked Albus, starting before Litinia finished, out of excitement. He changed his mind halfway through asking about Dismiusa, because he suddenly remembered that not all of his classmates were acquainted with that name.

All eyes turned to Litinia.

She nodded. "Beautiful creatures, such a shame they were exterminated." She looked angry for a moment before she collected herself. "Then again, I have been accused throughout my life of loving nature more than people, so I suppose my view is a biased one… The mulunctapoli problem was indeed menacing every aspect of civilized society. The Ministry had them exterminated, but kept it entirely secret how the extermination was accomplished."

"Why?" asked Albus.

"Oops," said Litinia. "I forgot to ask the Ministry why everything was a secret, I'm certain they would have given me a full and comprehensive answer."

The class laughed, and Albus couldn't help but grin. "So nobody knows how they did the extermination?"

"Not a soul alive today."

"Could they have missed some?"

"Professor Wilcox believes so. I have tried to convince him that the survival of a wild mulunctapol was impossible… I happen to know that the extermination was complete."

"How do you know?"

"Because my husband was the exterminator," said Litinia. "Sidland Darstary. He finished painting me shortly after the task was completed, and I was partially imbued with his knowledge—it is how portraits work. He knows he killed all of them."

"How does he know?"

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you?" She smiled. "It's quite all right—something to be treasured, in fact. Satisfying a curious mind is one of the reasons I became a teacher. But I will not tell you _how_ my husband knew that he had succeeded."

Albus's face fell. "Why not?"

"Because he didn't tell me," said Litinia, shrugging. "I am sorry to disappoint you."

"That's all right, you can't help it," mumbled Albus, right as the door opened.

Wilcox strode in jovially. "I have a surprise for you!" he said, holding out his arms as if to hug the entire class.

Litinia coughed. "Er, I apologize, Professor Wilcox, but I have thoroughly ruined your surprise."

"Oh," he said, looking slightly crestfallen. "Well, that's all right, I can still surprise the rest of the classes—so don't tell anyone where you've gone! I'll announce it at lunch. Sorry for not informing you beforehand, but I only got permission to bring you about an hour ago. The debates are going to go on for several days; you boys and girls are being treated to the first day of the debates, they only started about an hour ago."

He stepped aside, and through the doorway floated a large dictionary of legal terms. It was glowing with a blue light.

"This will serve as both our Portkey and as a reference for people who have no idea what these lawmakers are saying," he said. "Percy Weasley, the Minister of Magic himself, created this Portkey, only the Minister can create them to go in and out of the Ministry, in much the same way that only the Headmaster can create them in and out of Hogwarts, or how only those with permission from both countries can create Portkeys between them. That's your bit of trivia for the day, your very short History of Magic lesson, but you won't be tested on it. Come on, everyone, let's get into the hall where there's more room for everyone to crowd around the Portkey…"

The students all stepped out into the hall, but Albus took a detour and stepped very close to Litinia's portrait.

"Do you know anything about Dismiusa?" he whispered.

Litinia shook her head.

"I suspected that was what you were going to ask, before you changed your mind," she said. "Dismiusa is an entirely fantastical being. A fairy tale, founded and farmed on falsehoods. You would do best to forget about it. Hurry along, now, or you'll miss your ride!"

Albus nodded and thanked her for the information, then sprinted out into the hall to grab the Portkey.

"That's everyone, then," said Wilcox. "Good. The Portkey leaves in thirty seconds. Remember to not fight the Portkey! Just stay perfectly limp and don't move around too much, or you could rip yourself off of the Portkey and risk an infinitely more severe version of Splinching known as Explintering, of which the name alone gives a pretty good idea as to why it isn't a good idea."

As they prepared to leave, he frowned in thought. Litinia said that there were no wild mulunctapoli left, but also that Dismiusa was not real. Then how did these most recent mulunctapoli get here? If someone was keeping them alive, why were they biding their time for _seven hundred years_? It didn't make much sense.

He was yanked right out of his thoughts by the jerking of the Portkey. His finger was glued to the book as he hurtled through dark and winding space, the darkness compressing his lungs like it was solid, the Portkey pulling him by what felt like a hook behind his navel, and then suddenly it was over; they all slammed to the cold floor of a hallway in the Ministry of Magic.

"All right," said Wilcox, who had managed to stay standing on the landing. "First, I want to make sure everything's okay for us in there. But before that… mm, then I guess that would be second, and this is first… is anyone feeling extremely nauseous or panicky?"

Two Ravenclaw girls raised their hands; Albus thought their names were Kelly Aldrice and Dinah Bohr. They were on wobbly legs and looked severely green.

"Well, we have better remedies for that than we did a century ago, when students were still taking Portkeys to Hogwarts," said Professor Wilcox, uncapping a vial of an orange potion that seemed to have frosted over. It turned back into liquid when he opened it. "I hear it was a mess… students absolutely flowing into the hospital wing on the first day. Now, bear in mind, this will give you the severe need to pee, but you should get over the sickness directly after that." He conjured two glasses from the air, and poured a little bit from the vial of potion into each. "I'll have to remember to thank Zayn for the potions later. I knew we'd have one or two sick kids, even with a hand as steady as Percy's." He put the cap back on the potion, and flicked the vial with a fingernail; it immediately iced over again.

He noticed Albus looking interestedly at the vial, and he smiled. "Orienge," he said, holding up the potion and shaking it. "Used as a cure for sickness caused by jarring motions, but also for dizziness, headaches, and migraines. You can also use it to sharpen the speed at which you take in surroundings while you're moving, which is why this is a banned substance for Quidditch matches. Caused a lot of problems in the mid-twentieth century when it was invented, until they realized that it's pretty easy to tell when a Quidditch player's taken this potion: They're going to the bathroom every fifteen minutes." He stowed the vial away. "Your classmates should be fine after their first trip, though, I only gave them enough to recover from that momentary sensation of the Portkey travel."

"Ooh, I gotta go," said Dinah, and she clutched her stomach. Wilcox pointed her in the direction of the nearest lavatory, and she hobbled in that direction, doubled over. Kelly followed shortly after in the same manner.

"Are you interested in making potions like these?" Wilcox asked Albus. "Zayn tells me you're one of the naturals in his class. Given any thought to your future career yet?"

Albus shook his head, wondering if that was a bad thing.

"No worries, you're only eleven," said Wilcox. "But next year you should give thought to your post-Hogwarts life. Easter is when you'll be choosing your electives, and although you can go back after your fifth year and retake some O.W.L. courses at a faster pace, you can only take the N.E.W.T.s of the O.W.L.s you've taken fifth year."

Albus was regrettably paying less than full attention, but he felt like all this would be repeated to him when necessary. Wilcox turned and started talking to the Greengrass triplets, and Albus started taking in the sights of the Ministry; the handsome stone arches; the enchanted windows that showed a bright, sunny landscape, even though they were underground; the international flags that hung all around this hallway for the conference.

Shortly after that, Dinah and Kelly returned, and Wilcox raised his hands to get everyone's attention.

"We'll enter the courtroom now," he said. "It's where the debates are hosted. I beg you to please, remain as quiet as possible, and try to listen. These are very important issues. I'll be speaking here, but not today, so I will be able to chaperone you the whole time. If you need anything, tap me on the shoulder and point to the door; we will leave and you will tell me the problem out there so that we cause as few disruptions as possible. If you need to go to the lavatory, I'd like you to still inform me, but you should just leave quietly by yourself after that. It's right down the hall. Is everyone ready?"

Wilcox watched as they all gave slow, nervous nods, and then he opened the large door in front of them and ushered them in.

There was a black man standing at one of two tables in the center of the courtroom, giving a speech to the audience. Next to him at the table was a frail-looking old woman. At the second table, there was a young Asian woman with hair tied back in a bun, and none other than Arthur Weasley, Albus's grandfather.

"We must wait," said the man standing in the middle with a thick accent, as he began to pace. "The timing… is not right." He paused. "We have a saying in my tribe: '_Bendera hufuata upepo._' This means, a flag follows the direction of the wind. The winds have been gusting towards secrecy for over three hundred years, and now, we are trying to walk into this vicious wind, instead of letting it carry us. And I see nothing in the distance towards which we would be walking. We do not harm the Muggles—" he pronounced it _Moouggles_— "by staying away from them. We do not harm them. But the Muggles, they will harm us. I do not understand why we have these debates; our ancestors had them three hundred years ago and came to the conclusion that forever, the Wizarding world must be separated. Forever, Muggles must be avoided. We do not assume to know whether Muggles would be accepting to the existence of magic, but that is not the point of these debates. The point is that a global revelation would do us a great amount of harm, and that should be the only point to be considered."

He sat down, and Albus had an urge to applaud, as people would normally do after a speech. However, nobody was applauding.

Then Arthur Weasley stood, straightened his robes, and addressed the room. Albus shifted in his seat and craned his neck at an optimal angle to watch.

"Albus Dumbledore once said," he began, "he believed the International Statute of Secrecy was a permanent pain in our backs, self-inflicted to distract us from a temporary scar on our chests."

Albus smiled; Grandpa Weasley was, after all, referring to the brilliant man after whom he was named. At the start of that sentence, he had thought for a moment that Grandpa Weasley was talking to him, until he followed "Albus" with "Dumbledore" instead of "Potter."

Arthur Weasley continued calmly. "We all know that the International Statute of Secrecy was put into place a long time ago. Around a third of a millennium. We all know it was a time of turmoil and distress for the wizarding community. Naturally, it was up to the International Confederation of Wizards to alleviate the suffering of its people. And it did so, rather effectively. To simplify matters, the International Statute of Secrecy was set to stand for all time. But there was something our ancestors could not foresee."

He turned to the other table. "Technology." He stared at them for a moment before continuing. "It was not Muggle attitudes that they overlooked—certainly, Muggles wouldn't be so close-minded and superstitious forever, and they knew that, but it was still better for both parties to remain separate forever. No… the thing that they never saw coming was the advancement of invention. Electricity. Technology.

"I am now going to explain what the Internet is."

Furrowed brows spread through the room. "Miss Aokuro, if you would?" said Mr. Weasley. "Please, I would like everyone to imagine now that I am a Muggle who notices a dragon."

The Asian woman at Mr. Weasley's table flicked her wand in the air, and a sparkling dragon made out of smoke flew into the air above their heads.

Then, Mr. Weasley took out a device that Albus had seen before. He held it up to the sky and pressed a few buttons, and then the dragon disappeared.

"I only saw this dragon for about five seconds," said Mr. Weasley. "But this little device that fits in my pocket? It is called a _cell phone._ You may not have to worry about this Muggle yelling to the stars that he's seen a dragon, because no one will believe him… but in the five seconds that he sees it, a Muggle is one hundred percent capable of taking a picture, or even a _video recording_—that is, the Muggle equivalent of a Pensieve that can only be reviewed from one angle—of this dragon. _Engorgio._"

He moved his wand in a small circle, and suddenly the phone grew to about ten times its normal height and length, and began slowly rotating in the center of the courtroom.

There were gasps all around the room as a moving image of the dragon replayed itself on the screen of the phone. Mr. Weasley smiled at the effect, and continued. "Indeed. The Muggles have outdone themselves with invention. It is my belief that more attention should have been paid to the development of the non-magical world—then, we may have foreseen this. In any case, I will identify the emergent problem now." He held up a hand and gave a flourish at the screen. "In a time of less than thirty seconds, a person can 'upload' this video from their phone directly to the Internet. For anyone who doesn't know what the Internet is, just imagine this: A Muggle can search the Internet for information, and find that information in under five seconds. It's quicker than Summoning a textbook. They are more adept at accessing information than we are. And it's not just information: If anyone, anywhere in the world, writes something or takes a picture and 'uploads' it to the Internet—the word 'upload' means that they place something inside an invisible cloud of information—_anyone in the world with access to the Internet can see it._ Anyone who is looking for proof that magic exists can search the Internet for pictures and videos of dragons and magic, and they will be able to access every picture and video of magical events that has ever been uploaded. And here is the worst part: Even if the Wizarding community found a way to Obliterate these pictures, these videos, from this Internet, it would be much worse for us: Every Muggle who uses the Internet and sees these pictures is a secret to us. We don't know who the viewers of these pictures are. Some Muggles _will notice_ if we erase information from the Internet, and this will cause them to believe it even more. And, they will blame their own governments for trying to cover up the existence of magic. Witches and warlocks, I do not presume that a global revelation is a good idea—but I do claim, and rightfully so, that it is the lesser of two evils.

"I am certain that you all have heard of the Sands of Time, the wizarding nationalist group of Africa, Asia, and Europe, which claims that Muggles must be made aware of our existence? These terrorists are doing everything in their power, short of that which would get them caught, to let Muggles know about magic. We do not negotiate with terrorists, but just know that if left to their own devices, they will succeed. There are hidden cameras in Muggle villages, cameras in Muggle homes and Muggle pockets, even on nature reserves, ready to be activated in order to capture any sign of paranormal or supernatural phenomena. Once it has been recorded, there is no way for us to convince Muggles that what they have seen is false. Eventually, they will piece it together. _There is no stopping this from eventually happening,_ but I am of the strong belief that the Muggles will resent us much less if we reveal ourselves to them, rather than if they discover us on their own—which, I will once again stress, will absolutely, undoubtedly happen, unless we reveal ourselves first.

"I do not presume, never have presumed, and never will presume that every Muggle will be completely understanding, nor that there will be no repercussions. I am not arguing that it will not hurt us, nor am I arguing that it will not hurt them What I beg you to realize is that, one way or another, the Muggles will find out. Even just one careless mistake by one careless wizard could make that a reality right now. The only question is whether or not we will reveal ourselves to them, or whether we let them uncover us in our places of hiding, and perhaps abandon all hope that they may ever trust us. If anyone in attendance would like me to go further into depth on what exactly the internet is, or what a cell phone is, I will gladly do so for you, because I want to make sure everybody understands that we have been underestimating the Muggles for far too long, and that continuing to do so will end up threatening the harmony that could be established now if the Confederation takes action. Thank you."

He sat back down at the table. Albus felt like a very good point had been made—his mind had been changed, too. It seemed like the opposition was arguing a flawed point: Grandpa Weasley had made the debates not about whether or not a global revelation was a good thing, but rather about revealing the Wizarding world now rather than letting Muggles find out for themselves. However, Albus was still not entirely convinced because of one factor. Based on the skeptical looks around the room, he felt that the delegates from the other countries were thinking the same things. Were Muggles really capable of finding them out?

The rest of the morning followed the path that Mr. Weasley had set, but was less in his favor than the beginning of the debates. Other speakers discussed the history of Muggle ignorance and disbelief of magic, and the unwillingness that Muggles had for believing in magic, and then noted how very little had changed in that manner—that Muggles would eagerly remain oblivious forever. The court would seem to swing one way, when more Muggle methods of detection were discussed, but then the opposition would insist that this would not lead to the Muggles discovering magic, but rather to the further discrediting of the individuals making the claim, which would deter future Muggles from doing anything similar. Mr. Weasley gave another impassioned speech before the end of the debates, about how it was terrible of wizards to allow Muggles to be socially deemed insane, simply for believing in magic, and that it caused suffering to Muggles as well, but Albus was surprised to note that this garnered the least positive reactions he'd seen. He was surprised to see no pity on most of the faces in the crowd when his grandfather begged them not to let those fates befall Muggles simply because those Muggles were trying to tell the truth.

He caught sight of his father in the audience, too, but Harry did not see him, and Harry did not speak during the hour and a half in which they attended. Mostly it was delegates from different countries who gave fifteen-minute-long speeches, after the first few short ones. Some of them spoke so slowly that it was almost unbearable to listen—even worse than if they had been left with Binns—and some of them talked with such thick accents that it was impossible to determine what they were saying.

Finally, when the first speaker they'd seen had returned to the center of the courtroom to discuss the problems with "Moouggles," Wilcox got the attention of the attention of the first years. "Come," he whispered, and they all stood up and left as silently as possible.

Once they were out in the hall, Wilcox clapped his hands together. "Wasn't that riveting?" he said quietly, but with a large grin.

No one answered.

"February the nineteenth, two thousand and seventeen," he said. "A date to remember. I hope that you all do remember that you were here to watch it take place. This could be an event of historic proportions. That's why I took you out of your History of Magic course—you were just watching history happen, why sit in a classroom learning about it when you can be right in the middle of it?"

He then opened a closet door nearby and, with a wave of his wand, extracted a glowing blue wheel that looked like it was ripped right off a bike. "This is our ride," he said. "Everyone hold hands now and grab the Portkey…"

They did so, and the Portkey whisked them out of the building, back into the hallway where they started.

"The Great Hall will be serving lunch very soon," he said. "I suggest you head there after our quick chat.

"So! How did you enjoy it?"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws exchanged awkward glances.

"Come on, you were paying attention, weren't you?" asked Wilcox. "Why did you think I brought you, to be able to say you napped through one of the most important political meetings of the twenty-first century? Doesn't anyone have any thoughts?"

Wilcox looked actually physically upset that no one was raising a hand. Risking humiliation, Albus raised his hand, because he couldn't stand Wilcox leaving with the thought that his special field trip, which must have taken a lot of planning, had no impact on their class.

Wilcox looked overjoyed when the hand was raised, and he nodded to Albus.

"Er… I was just wondering," said Albus. "The debates… didn't really seem to be what I was expecting. They were debating more about… about what to, er, debate about… if that makes sense?"

"I know what you mean," said Wilcox, nodding in appreciation at the observation. "Did anyone else notice that? These debates were strange—most of the discussion was based on figuring out what they were supposed to be debating! Isn't that what you meant, Albus?"

"Yes," replied Albus, glad that Wilcox could translate the straw-grasping he'd just done.

"This was a rather unusual topic," said Wilcox. "The delegates were often trying to convince each other what the debates were about. Arthur Weasley insisted that the debates were about realizing that, eventually, Muggles will learn of the Wizarding world, whether or not we tell them, and that they will trust us even less if we continue to hide until the point of discovery. Mbato—he was the African delegate you saw—insisted that the debates were about realizing that the consequences of revealing the Wizarding world to Muggles are absolutely disastrous, that every witch and wizard will pay the price for a global revelation, and that it is never acceptable for the people in power to put those costs on our Wizarding citizens. Does anyone think they know who's right?"

There was silence.

"I don't think anyone's right," said Riley.

"Excellent!" said Wilcox, clapping his hands together again. "Now you're getting the hang of politics!"


	14. The Dueling Tournament

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE DUELING TOURNAMENT

O

"Hey, you know what I just realized?" said Riley as they walked into Herbology. "Second term is Slytherless Fridays."

Scott gave him a questioning look.

"Flying lessons ended after Halloween and Acclimatization ended after Christmas break," explained Riley. "Second semester we don't have any classes with Slytherin on Fridays."

"You didn't realize that until a month into this term?" asked Scott.

_And I don't know what you have against the Slytherins,_ Albus thought to himself. _They're a quite agreeable bunch, nothing like my dad described when he was here._

"I like Fridays even better this term," said Exo. "Only two classes."

Riley was still lost in thought, considering now that they'd never had classes with the Hufflepuffs on Wednesdays, when Professor Longbottom entered the greenhouse.

"I've finally graded last week's tests," he announced. "As usual, the highest grade in the class gets the opportunity to be exempted from today's lesson if they so wish."

"Start packing your stuff, Rose," yelled Riley.

"As a matter of fact," said Professor Longbottom quietly, "this time it was _not_ Rose."

The entire class (including Rose) was utterly shocked.

"Aidan?" guessed Scott.

Aidan blushed.

"Nope," said Professor Longbottom.

There was dead silence.

Albus felt a rush of excitement—did he finally beat his cousin at something?

"The highest grade in the class on last week's exam was Mia Moon," said Professor Longbottom, handing back the exam and shaking her hand. "Congratulations, Mia!"

Rose clapped earnestly with the rest of the class—so did Aidan. However, Albus felt like neither of those two would have clapped for each other had the highest grade been given to one of them. It had turned into a constant competition, but (at least for now) they were both competing in a very good and friendly spirit.

"You get to leave early today with a smile on your face!" said Professor Longbottom. "Have a good break."

"Oh, I love Herbology," said Mia. "I think I'll stay."

Albus thought for a moment that he saw a tear form in Professor Longbottom's eye.

"I'll take her free exemption from the class!" announced Riley.

"You most certainly will not," said Professor Longbottom. "Back to seriousness, everybody! Mia, I'm glad you enjoy my lessons so much, I'll try to make it worth your time." He winked at her.

Professor Longbottom then began describing the correct way to shave a Hirsuhedrora. He made a point of mentioning that they were not required to learn the spelling of this name, and the class sighed with relief.

Albus glanced up at Mia, who was intently watching the lecture with those fascinating eyes of hers. Something strange about those eyes was pressing in the back of his mind, but he couldn't remember what it was. He felt like there was someone else he knew with those eyes, but he just hadn't noticed it yet.

"Now, if you would take out your books, please," said Professor Longbottom. "We're now going to go over the way in which the _book_ describes how to shave a Hirsuhedrora, and see why this is more effective with a less excited plant… if your Hirsuhedrora is wriggling its mustache in manly agitation, you're going to want to use the more careful method I just showed you… it takes a little bit longer, but you won't get bitten nearly as often…"

Albus looked through his bag, and his stomach grew gradually more unsettled as he looked through his books, unable to find his Herbology text.

"If you get bitten, you'll have to go down to the hospital wing… It's not terribly uncomfortable, but you _will_ grow a mustache, and depending on the situation, you may or may not want to keep it. If you don't, it has to be magically removed; it'll just grow back if you shave it."

Albus raised his hand.

"Hirsuhedrora is used in a variety of hair-care potions, usually in combination with—yes, Albus?"

"I think I dropped my book somewhere," said Albus.

"Oh," said Professor Longbottom, twisting his mouth. "Well, this is a lesson you probably shouldn't miss. Share with someone, you can retrace your steps after class."

Mia edged over closer to him. "You can share with me," she said.

Albus blushed a little. "Okay," he said, trying not to stare too long at her eyes.

Mia noticed, though, seemingly every time he tried to catch another glimpse throughout the class. She seemed to enjoy the attention. "It's hereditary," she said, pointing to her eyes when Professor Longbottom took a break near the end of class to drink some water. "My mom had it, and my grandma had it. I don't know how far back it goes, but I think it's a really, really long time, we have lots of ancient family portraits with the same eyes."

Professor Longbottom dumped the rest of his water onto the Hirsuhedrora; it shivered and its mustache grew slightly bushier. "Next week, we'll be trimming the Hirsuhedrora," he said. "Rather than shaving it, I mean. The Hirsuhedrora produces more seeds when it's confident about its mustache. And the end of next week, we'll have a competition. The student who trims his or her Hirsuhedrora's mustache to look the best will get the most seeds produced; that student will win a prize. That's it for today! Remember, you're being quizzed on Hirsuhedrorae on Tuesday, you're going to want to know how to identify the female plant. Have a good weekend, everyone."

"I love Herbology," said Mia, putting her book away. "Don't you?"

"Yeah," agreed Albus. "I knew Professor Longbottom before I came here, he's the best."

"It's my best subject," said Mia. "I'm not too good in the other ones, though. Professor Longbottom says he was like that, too."

"Well, if you turn out like him, you've got nothing to worry about!" said Albus.

Mia smiled. "Maybe I will teach Herbology. So where are you going?"

"Er… I don't know," said Albus, looking around. "Gryffindor common room, I guess? There's really nowhere else I need to go…"

"There isn't?"

"…Is there?"

"Don't you need to look for your missing book?" she asked.

"Yeah!" said Albus, smacking his head. "I totally forgot… Thanks."

"No problem, see you later," said Mia, waving.

Albus walked back to the greenhouse, and then retraced his steps from the greenhouse to the History of Magic room. As he turned into the hall by the classroom, he heard his name being called.

"Albus? …Albus!"

He looked around, but he didn't see anyone.

"ALBUS!"

The voice was right next to his ear and he jumped back from the wall, but still, no one was there. Suddenly his head filled with his father's stories, about hearing voices in the walls, and the basilisk—

"Albus, _in the pictures,_ for Merlin's sake!"

"Oh!" said Albus, his eyes finally falling on Litinia, who was standing in the side of a frame containing a wizard named Thonner Gaimond with incredibly wild white hair. "Sorry! I didn't see you in there."

"I was only waving my arms around like a madman," said Litinia. "I've been looking for you all over the castle—you left your Herbology book in the History of Magic classroom! I tried to find you when I saw it, but you had left a while before that and I didn't know which way you'd gone. I've been scouring the classrooms, looking."

"Oh—thank you!"

Perhaps it was because he had just been around Mia, and he was staring at her fascinating eyes a lot that day, but he couldn't help himself from staring at Litinia's eyes for a moment, and suddenly it clicked.

"Hey!" he shouted, pointing at her portrait. "Your eyes!"

"Ah, yes," she said proudly. "It's called heterochromia, I believe. You see, in my left eye, the pigmentation—"

"They're just like Mia Moon's eyes," blurted Albus.

"Who?"

"Mia Moon, one of the Hufflepuffs in my year? She has the same eyes as you."

"Really?" said Litinia. "Here—walk back to the classroom with me, we'll get your book."

Albus told Litinia what Mia Moon looked like, and how her eye color was just like Litinia's. He walked down the hall to the History of Magic classroom while Litinia walked alongside him through the portraits.

"My daughter did have the same eye coloration," said Litinia. "It is possible that the trait was passed down all that way, I suppose."

"So Mia Moon might be your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great—"

"Don't strain yourself," laughed Litinia. "But yes, I suppose that's possible."

"Can we search her ancestry?"

"I doubt it," said Litinia. "The trail would probably go cold somewhere. I don't know who my daughter married, I died when she was an infant. So did my husband."

"Oh," said Albus. "I'm sorry. Do you mind… if…" He trailed off.

"If you ask how we died?" guessed Litinia. "I don't mind at all. I was murdered."

"By who?" asked Albus, startled.

"By my husband," said Litinia.

Albus gawked at her. "How did he die?"

"He killed himself," said Litinia.

"Why?"

"Because he felt bad for killing me."

Albus's head hurt from trying to understand this.

"I still love him," said Litinia, shrugging. "He was beset by a sort of insanity, brought on shortly after the attack of a mulunctapol which left him a Squib for life. It's not that hard for me to talk about it, actually, mainly because it was a full seven hundred years ago. Anyway, tell me… is this Mia a Herbology genius?"

"Yeah!" Albus was remembering when Professor Longbottom was handing back the tests that day. "How did you know?"

"Well, I _was_ the Herbology professor," said Litinia. "Youngest professor in Hogwarts history at the time, in fact! Youngest to die, too. I was wondering if this Mia Moon was like me in other ways."

They turned into the classroom, and Albus almost bumped into Professor Desulgon as the latter was leaving.

"Albus!" said Professor Desulgon. "How are things? I was just about to bring this to you."

He held out the Herbology textbook.

"I also wanted to talk to you for a moment," he admitted. "Would you step in?"

"Sure," said Albus, wondering what it was about—had his grades dropped?

They stepped back into the History of Magic classroom, where Binns was having a discussion with the Fat Friar.

"…seen it myself, in fact," the Friar was saying. "Ancient Greeks learned how to do it first, I believe. Egyptians perfected the process… probably, as Dalton said, to prevent wandering spirits from disturbing their Pharaoh. I find it all very impressive…" He trailed off and looked over.

"Hello again, Friar, Cuthbert," said Professor Desulgon. "Would you mind moving to the next room over? I'd like to have a private chat with Albus. Nothing he's done wrong, just a chat."

"That's fine," said the Friar, bowing. Then he and Binns sailed through the wall and vanished.

"So," said Professor Desulgon, turning to Albus. "Read any more minds lately?"

Albus hadn't been expecting that. "Er, no, sir," he said. "I don't think so."

"Obviously not currently, or you'd have seen that question coming," said Professor Desulgon, smiling. "No, I expected not. I didn't think you'd be able to keep that up. I just wanted to let you know that I think I've figured out why."

Albus turned his full attention to Professor Desulgon, hoping to finally get some answers.

"Devil's Snare," he said, taking out one of his own wands, "is a very aggressive species. Invasive, too—it probes all around, just as one might probe a mind. And in a wand of silver lime, skills in Legilimency are to be expected. However, I was wondering how a _first year_ managed to do this! I came to a conclusion that I think is accurate.

"You have in your pocket a wand matured in Frostflame," he continued. "Wands are getting better, there's no doubt about it. The early twentieth century was when wandmaking really started to take off. Wands got better, and more powerful. Yours is especially aggressive, and strong. Very strong. So strong that it's getting bored in the hands of a first year who cannot use it to its full power. Don't worry—it will become a very useful companion when you are older—but right now, it needs to release energy. The silver lime shell is directing its energy into mind magic.

"Of course, wands generally don't do magic without the consent of their owners. It's not normal. Even if they could, they need the wizard's magic to do it—wands don't have enough power of their own to jump into another wizard's mind. But you are only eleven, and you're not strong enough to break into someone's mind either. Unless there are very special circumstances."

He tapped his own head. "I was running on two hours of sleep, the night you read my mind," he said. "Being tired affects your mind. You're not as in control anymore. Have you ever gone on that little sleep before?"

Albus shook his head.

"You tend to zone out, and your eyes just go out of focus by themselves," said Professor Desulgon. "Your brain is so out-of-whack that some Wizarding governments even ban people from Apparating unless they've had at least four hours of sleep, because it can end very badly. Just like… being drunk." He rolled his eyes. "Harry Lussen's brain was addled, the defenses were down, just like mine—except, from a different cause, of course. That's why you were able to get inside our heads—because our brains were sort of switched off, and without brains, you're kind of brainless. The average person wouldn't be that susceptible to the mind probing of a first year student."

"I understand," said Albus, nodding.

"But at the same time, I feel like this is a good sign, that you're going to become something special when you leave here," added Professor Desulgon, punching Albus's arm.

Albus blinked. There were those high expectations again.

"Anyway, I just figured that you might appreciate an explanation," Professor Desulgon finished. "And you were probably wondering when you'll be able to control it."

Albus nodded vigorously.

"Not for at least four years, I'd expect," replied Professor Desulgon. He shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you, but that is some extremely advanced magic. No matter how powerful your wand is, I seriously doubt that you'd be able to get anywhere in the field of offensive mind magic before the end of your fifth year."

He had been expecting an answer like that.

"Well, do you have any other questions about this sort of thing?" asked Professor Desulgon.

"Not really," said Albus. "You answered everything. And more. Thank you!"

"Thought you'd appreciate it," he said winking. "So, you coming to the Dueling Tournament finals?"

"Yeah, of course," said Albus. "My cousin's in it!"

"That's right," laughed Professor Desulgon. "Cousins, _plural_, right? Didn't a Weasley take the Gryffindor spot in _every single year?_"

"What!" shouted Albus—he'd known that Rose, Roxanne, Lucy, and Louis had won their tournaments, but he hadn't heard that Molly, Dominique, and Victoire had as well.

"I was surprised to hear it wasn't you, actually," said Professor Desulgon. "I mean, Rose is excellent, but you seem to me like master duelist material."

"Oh," said Albus. He didn't really know how to respond to a compliment like that, which was about his future rather than the present. "Thanks! I'll try!"

"If I'm teaching the second years again next year, I'll look forward to seeing you," said Professor Desulgon, and he winked again. "See you after dinner."

He walked out of the classroom.

"You've read minds?" said Litinia, making Albus jump; he'd thought he was alone. "That's quite amazing. The field of mind magic was just becoming more known around my time."

"I didn't do it on purpose," he grinned. "Hey, do you mind if I let Mia know that you have her eyes, so maybe she could talk to you?"

"I would appreciate that, in fact," said Litinia. "See you in History of Magic on Monday, Albus."

"See you, Litinia," said Albus, and he hurried out of the classroom to join his friends in the common room before dinner. After dinner was the Dueling Tournament, and he was really looking forward to that.

O

"Did you know that Moouggles used to have dueling, too?" said Eben.

The first years had taken to the habit of pronouncing "Muggles" as "Moouggles," the way that Mbato had pronounced the term, because it sounded funnier that way.

"They did?" asked Exo.

"Yep," said Kolby. "They used swords, and guns. They still do, except it's not to the death anymore, just like with wizards; it's more for show."

"They can't be as cool as wizard duels," said Toby, watching Professors Longbottom and Desulgon create a large platform in the middle of the Great Hall.

"I sincerely doubt it," said Jonah.

The Great Hall was slowly filling with students for the Defense Association meeting. More students had already shown up than had attended last time, because tonight was the night of the Dueling Tournament, and everyone wanted to watch. Albus wondered if the Quidditch pitch wouldn't have been a better place to hold the tournament—there were so many people. Even a good number of the ghosts had attended, and sat in the air above the students to watch. One of them was a ghost that Albus had never seen before, a young girl with funny-looking glasses and a well-practiced pout.

When the flow of students finally seemed to slow to a trickle, Professor Longbottom climbed onto the platform and waved his wand; a loud _CRACK_ sounded across the room. Everyone fell mostly silent, apart from a few whisperers.

"Here are the rules!" announced Professor Longbottom. "Either incapacitate your opponent or relieve them of their wands. No help from the audience!"

"And no killing," added Professor Desulgon.

Professor Longbottom sighed. "Yes, and no killing. The edges of this arena will have an invisible barrier around them, which I will put into place when both duelists are in their starting positions. No person can cross this barrier until I deem that the match is over and I remove it. They will also absorb any flying spells, so the audience does not have to worry. I hope I do not have to mention that excessive force will absolutely not be tolerated and could result in multiple months of detention.

"The first years' dueling tournament will be first," he continued. "Single elimination, one duelist from each House, no match for third place, so three matches total. Each win in this tournament will earn the winner three points for their House. Each win in the second years' tournament will earn the winner five points for their House… seven points per match for the third years, and so on until the seventh years' matches, in which fifteen points will be on the line at every duel.

"In every tournament, the first matches are determined by a simple rule: the person with the most losses faces the person with the least losses, and the other two will face each other. The winner of those two matches move on to the final. Now, that's enough talking from me, I think. Let us see how much our contenders have practiced for these matches!"

"Hi, Albus," said Mia, walking over as Professor Longbottom left the arena. "Exciting, isn't it? I think Aidan's going to win."

"I don't know, Rose is just as perfect as he is," replied Albus.

"I talked with Litinia today before I came here," she said. "Thanks for telling me about her at dinner. You're right, she has exactly my eyes!"

"I thought it was really cool," he grinned. "Like, you probably have a Hogwarts professor as your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great—"

"Don't strain yourself," laughed Mia.

"That's exactly what she said!" laughed Albus. "I think you must be related to her!"

Albus caught sight of Holly in his peripheral vision. She waved to him, but then her eyes shifted over to Mia, and she looked saddened for a moment. Then she turned and sidled through the crowd away from him.

Albus bit his lip and looked back to Mia. "Er, I'm going to go say hi to a friend," he said.

"All right, see you around, and thanks again," she said brightly.

Albus ducked through the crowd and found Holly looking a little upset in the corner of the room. Nearby were Molly Weasley and her group of friends. Holly glanced up at him, looked on either side of him, and then she smiled.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi, what's up?" said Albus.

With a lot of practice, he'd managed to reach a point where he could sound relatively normal while he talked to her.

"Oh, nothing," she said. "I'm just looking forward to the matches."

"Who do you think's gonna win in our year?" said Albus.

Holly began cheering up more and more as they talked.

"I don't know," she said. "I mean, Rose and Aidan are really good, but I don't know how good Scorpius Malfoy is… Plus, I haven't seen Alec in the common room for forever, I think he's been practicing."

"Practicing?" said Albus, trying not to show too much shock, though this was very unlike the Alec that he knew.

"Yeah, he was in the library a lot, with a lot of books on simple spells. I think he's given up studying and is just learning as much magic as he can."

Professor Longbottom's magnified voice echoed through the hall as several late students rushed in, and everyone looked over. "Direct your attention to the arena now!"

A small wave of dark energy pulsed up from the floor around the arena, and they knew that the barrier was in place. Inside the arena were Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy, wands at the ready, faces completely unreadable.

"Our first match is Scorpius Malfoy of Slytherin versus Rose Weasley of Gryffindor. The match will begin after they bow. We all know the rules. The next match will begin immediately when this one has concluded. Bow to your opponent, now, and commence the duel!"

There was clapping in the Great Hall, but not much, as this was a duel of first years, and apparently they weren't expecting much.

Apparently, they hadn't met Rose.

Rose and Scorpius bowed to each other, and then they held their wands out in front of them.

"_Expelliarmus!_" shouted Rose.

"_Effracturo,_" said Scorpius calmly at the same time. He deflected her attack into the barrier, where it fizzled out on contact.

Scorpius was dead calm and rigid; not even an eyebrow twitched. Rose slowly moved from side to side, apparently considering her angle.

"_Pulvethra!_" shouted Rose.

A dull _thump_ could be heard inside the arena, and then dust flew up all around the two duelists, rendering them much more difficult to see.

"_Expelliarmus!_" came Scorpius's shout.

Rose had moved, and his attack hit the wall. However, she had calculated his position, and when _she_ shouted "_Expelliarmus!_" her aim was good. Scorpius's wand hit the barrier behind him, and Professor Longbottom blew a whistle.

"Excellent job, excellent job, two points to Gryffindor," said Professor Longbottom, clearing the dust which had already started to settle. "Good use of the Dustkicker Charm, Rose, did you learn that one in class or did you look it up?"

"I looked it up," said Rose proudly.

She caught Aidan's gaze, and they glared at each other for a moment and then grinned. Rose jumped down, and Aidan clambered onto the arena.

He nodded to Alec, who was staring him down with clear concentration. Professor Longbottom stepped down from the raised arena with Scorpius, who returned to the stands, slightly red in the face. The barrier returned around Aidan and Alec.

"Bow, and begin," announced Professor Longbottom.

They bowed, and then raised their wands, but neither struck for a brief moment. The only sounds were older, disinterested students, deep in conversation and ignoring the match completely.

"_Tarantallegra!_" shouted Alec.

"_Rictusempra!_" shouted Aidan.

The spells collided in the air, and burst into sparks. "_Duodramocula!_" yelled Alec as Aidan blinked furiously from the flash caused by the collision.

Aidan looked up at the beam of light from Alec's wand and yelled, "_Effracturo!_"

He didn't notice that there were _two_ beams of light that burst out of Alec's wand. One of them was shattered by Aidan's counter, but the other struck him in the head and he spun around, dizzy.

He brandished his wand again and yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_" at the same time that Alec yelled, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Aidan's jet was aimed in the completely wrong direction, whereas Alec's aim was true. Aidan's limbs snapped together, and he fell rigid to the ground.

"The winner is Alec McKinnon!" announced Professor Longbottom.

"Wow," said Molly; Albus tuned in. "That's crazy. _Duodramocula_ is a tough spell for a first year to learn; isn't that the Seeing-Double Jinx?"

"Yeah," said one of her friends, Nicole Waters, who happened to be Scott's sister. "I presume that's why the Hufflepuff kid missed."

Aidan left the arena looking very disappointed, and Rose climbed up to meet Alec.

"He looked as good as your cousin, Mol," said another of Molly's friends. "She's got a fight ahead of her."

"She'll win, Missy, don't worry," responded Molly. "She's got some Hermione in her, she has to."

"Weasley, Thompson, Waters!" called a voice from below; they looked down to see an old-looking female teacher hushing them.

"Bow and begin!" called Professor Longbottom.

"_Agerluscio!_" yelled Alec immediately, as loud as he could.

Rose had been ready to counter, but instead she mouthed, "_What?_" as a flash of green filled the room. Albus had never heard of that spell, nor had he heard Alec talk about it. It seemed as if he really had been practicing, learning new spells just for the Dueling Tournament. He watched eagerly to see what Alec was up to.

All around the arena, enormous blades of grass sprung up ten feet high, completely obscuring both duelists. Albus looked over at Molly as she put a hand to her chin and nodded. He heard her mutter, "Interesting. What's he up to?"

"_Salimotor!_" came Alec's muffled shout from the middle of the new grassland. Alec's head suddenly poked out of the top of the grass—and then, so did the rest of his body. Albus remembered that spell from Professor Plinky's duel with Professor Valon—it was the Jumping Charm. Alec flew into the air, feet flying clear over the top of the grass, and he pointed his wand down and cried, "_Duro!_"

He landed ten feet above the ground—the grass below him had become so solid that he could stand on the tips of the blades. He looked around at the grass, and noticed movement in a few blades in front of him.

He twirled his wand in that direction, and yelled, "_Expelliarmus!_"

A wand flew out of the grass and clattered into the barrier.

A whistle sounded, signifying the end of the duel. Professors Valon and Plinky waved their wands, causing the grass to recede all the way into the floor again and disappear. Rose Weasley stood there, her expression a mixture of shock and mild irritation.

"The winner of this duel is Alec McKinnon!"

"Whoa," said Albus; Holly was cheering.

"That's six points to Ravenclaw, and three to Gryffindor," said Professor Longbottom. "Excellent work, Alec. The second years' tournament will now begin! Please come up as quickly as possible when I call your name, because we don't know how much time we will need for our later duels, we could be here all night. Red Pierce of Slytherin and Star Cican of Ravenclaw!"

"It'll take longer as we go up in years, I think," said Molly. "We've got some great duelists in the upper ranks."

Holly poked Albus's waist. "Hey," she whispered. "I beat Alec, and Alec beat Rose and Aidan. Does that mean I'm better than Rose and Aidan?"

_Alec's improved a lot since you beat him,_ Albus thought, but instead he said, "Yeah, it definitely does!"

Holly grinned and turned back to watch the new match.

The second years' tournament was almost as short as the first years'. The Slytherin named Red Pierce beat Star Cican in Ravenclaw. Then Roxanne Weasley made short work of a Hufflepuff named Amber Redden.

When Roxanne and Pierce had finished bowing in the second years' final, Red Pierce gave a complicated wave of his wand and yelled, "_Serpensortia!_"

A snake burst out of the end of his wand and hissed at Roxanne. She squealed and jumped backwards, and did not notice Pierce firing a Body-Bind curse at her. The match was over in a little under three seconds.

The third years' tournament leaned the other way on the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry. Lucy Weasley defeated a Slytherin named Seth Wilbanks. Mia Moon's sister Kalina was apparently not just good at Quidditch; she'd taken the Ravenclaw spot and defeated Jack Jumpdecker. The Hufflepuffs in the audience were very displeased; their House had yet to win a single duel.

Lucy and Kalina's duel was much longer than any of the others, mainly due to the fact that both duelists had complete mastery of the Shield Charm. After a lot of failed attempts, Lucy finally got in a jinx which caused the floor under Kalina to turn into ice. Kalina toppled to the floor and was relieved of her wand, and Gryffindor took its first championship title in the Dueling Tournament. Lucy was as perfect as her parents; Molly, however, was a bit more outgoing. The duels so far had all been very straight-forward, with not much creativity—mostly it was the same spells: Shield Charms, Body-Binds, Disarming, and Dissipation. Stunning would probably start coming into play soon. But if Albus knew Molly (and he did), she was going to make it fun. He couldn't wait to see her duels.

Louis Weasley had taken the fourth-year Gryffindor spot with no losses, and he continued his winning streak through Tommy Tattermore of Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff took its first victory through a boy named Owen Ashdown who defeated Red Pierce's brother in Slytherin, and the crowd was pulling for him, but he lost rather easily to Louis's effortless dueling. He was the only fourth-year who seemed to have control over the Stunning Spell, and the Shield Charms it encountered weren't powerful enough to stop the entire spell. Louis was never on the defense.

And then it was Molly's turn. Her first match was against a dreadfully bad duelist from Slytherin named Lou Gibrand; it was a wonder he'd taken the Slytherin title in his year. Maybe it was just nerves. Molly shot five consecutive spells in the first second of the match, and Lou was knocked into the barrier unconscious by the end of the barrage. It happened so quickly that some of the audience turned to each other and asked what happened.

Her opponent was a Hufflepuff named Gabriella Garland who had defeated a Ravenclaw named Phillip Singleton. Gabriella also won handily, and, past the initial indifference to the younger tournaments, almost all of the people in attendance were watching when Molly and Gabriella took the stage.

They bowed to each other, then raised their wands to duel.

"_Stupefy_!" shouted Gabriella first.

"_Protego! Stupefy!_"

"_Protego! Petrificus Totalus!_"

Instead of countering the last one, Molly tumbled to one side, threw her wand out and shouted, "_Cadesempra!_"

Her move was unexpected and rapid. Molly's opponent was caught off-guard by the large blast radius of her spell; Gabriella flew head over heels backwards. It looked like she was out of the running as Molly brandished her wand once more and shouted, "_Stupefy!_"

Gabriella swished her wand, shattering the jet of light before it reached her—a nonverbal version of Dissipation that only required the defender's wand to slash through the spell as it traveled. As Gabriella continued to fall, she waved her wand wildly and shouted, "_Incendio!_"

The hula-hoop-shaped orange blast from Gabriella's wand spun through the air towards Molly for a fraction of a second before Molly ducked, and it clipped the top of her head.

Gabriella landed on four limbs and scrambled to her feet. Molly Weasley's eyes popped out of their sockets in fury as she extinguished her burning hair with her bare hand. "NOT MY HAIR, YOU BITCH!" she shrieked.

"Sportsmanship, girls!" cried Professor Westerling.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" yelled Gabriella, stabbing her wand at Molly.

In one swift motion, Molly slashed through the curse, dissipating the spell before it hit her; then she slashed in the other direction, yelling "_Stupefy!_" and continued swishing her wand through the air in a circle, crying "_Circumpulso!_" as she gave the wand a final twirl.

As Gabriella let loose a Shield Charm to counter the Stunning Spell, a horizontal wave of light blasted out of Molly's wand. The light smashed into Gabriella's protective barrier and quickly phased through it, continuing to charge forward, delayed by the Shield Charm for no more than half a second.

The spell flashed as it made contact with Gabriella, and she staggered backwards; her Shield Charm disappeared.

"_Stupefy!_" Molly called out, and this time her aim was good: The Stunning Spell clipped Gabriella's shoulder as she fell. The Hufflepuff hit the floor, knocked out.

"The winner of this duel is Molly Weasley!"

The Gryffindors erupted into cheers while the Hufflepuffs buried their faces in their hands; they still had yet to win a tournament. Gryffindor had won three in a row.

The hopes of the Hufflepuffs were still alive, though. Besides, the older students' duels counted for more. The Hufflepuffs immediately set to making bets on how little time Euan would need to knock out his opponents; the average guess was about three seconds.

Molly jogged back over to her friends and gave knuckle punches to several of them. She winked at Albus.

Rose came jogging over. "What was that spell you used to get past her Shield Charm?" she asked enthusiastically.

Molly flashed a grin, happy that someone noticed her intelligent spell selection. "You mean _Circumpulso?_ That's the Pulse Charm. It's not a powerful spell at all, but you can use it to gain an advantage if your opponent isn't expecting it—that's actually how Professor Desulgon won the 2016 Doubles Dueling Championship! The Pulse Charm looses a pulse that isn't affected by other magical defenses, which just knocks everyone nearby off-balance for a bit. It was invented as a method to get the attention of large, noisy crowds."

The sixth years' duels started on a downer for Gryffindor as Dominique lost to Nella Chelic, the Slytherin Quidditch Captain. Casey Cachwin of Hufflepuff defeated Lorraine Atkinson of Ravenclaw, but lost to Nella Chelic in the longest match yet, and finally, it was down to the seventh years' tournament. Albus caught the tall, handsome head of Euan Yodelhop through the crowd; he looked determined.

Euan faced Victoire first, and the match was terribly one-sided. The perfect Hufflepuff dreamboat was on the offensive during the entire match, and his finishing blow was so spectacularly played that it received cheers. Right as Victoire looked like she might have had a chance to get out of the defensive state, he parried her nonverbal Impediment Jinx, cast a spell into the side of the arena which Conjured a mirror, and then redirected her Stunning Spell into the mirror; the spell rebounded and hit Victoire at an angle she hadn't predicted.

"There you are," said Eftan; Albus turned to see Aidan, Alec, and Eftan approaching him and Holly. Holly waved to Alec and gave him a thumbs-up; Alec slightly blushed.

"Hey, how's it going," said Albus, patting the seats beside him.

"We came to watch Euan Yodelhop win," said Aidan.

"You're gonna be disappointed, it's gonna be Aethan Maddox," said Eftan confidently.

Aethan Maddox was stepping onto the arena now; he had cool, almost gray skin and an unshaven face, but the hair wasn't long enough to look scraggly. It made him look much older than anyone else there, and much cooler. His opponent, a Ravenclaw named Catina Bird, was clambering onto the arena; she was much taller than Albus was accustomed to seeing people, and had awkwardly long arms. She was also very tan and blonde, and had a very idiotic look on her face; she was a direct contrast to her opponent, with his rough and good looks and his serious demeanor.

"Bow and begin!" announced Professor Longbottom.

Catina Bird raised her wand and began firing Stunners at her opponent—just Stunners, about a dozen in a row. Aethan deflected each of them easily without breaking eye contact with Catina. Every once in a while, he snuck in an extra blow that Catina had to work hard to dodge or Dissipate; the spells were flying in strange paths towards Catina and had exotic colors. Never once did Aethan speak a word.

Catina's jets finally stopped as she tried to think of a different strategy. Instead, Aethan stepped forward and began an offensive barrage, firing spell after unknown spell at her, getting closer and closer to her until he was about five feet from her. She had no time to block, and his next jab was straight at her foot; a rope snaked around her entire body and she thudded to the floor. As silent as ever, he walked back to the other side of the raised arena as the barrier faded.

"Holy cow," said Holly. "He beat the pants off of her without using a single verbal spell!"

"Well, he wouldn't," said Eftan. "He's mute!"

"Mute?" said Albus, impressed. Everything this kid did had to be nonverbal; it was a wonder he passed his first few years. This must have been what qualified him to be Head Boy over the apparently perfect Euan Yodelhop.

"And finally, it's time for our last match! Euan Yodelhop against Aethan Maddox. Whenever you two are ready, bow and begin!"

"Time to really see who should have been Head Boy," said Aidan, leering at Eftan and grinning.

"Sure is," said Eftan.

Aethan and Euan bowed to each other, and then raised their wands.

It was a fantastic duel—neither duelist spoke a word in the entirety of the match. They both had the same advantage in that their opponent did not know what attack was coming. Neither did the audience, in fact; it was hard to keep up. Many spells were hard to recognize, but most of them were countered before striking, and so their effects were never realized and they were unidentifiable spells. Albus would have liked a narrator, or a set of Omnioculars that, instead of naming Quidditch moves, named spells.

Suddenly, with a loud blast, Euan Yodelhop rocketed across the arena into the air above Aethan Maddox. He cloaked himself in a Shield Charm and plummeted down directly on top of his surprised foe, and when he landed, he wrestled the wand right out of Aethan's hand by twisting the Slytherin's wrist, and he threw the wand to the side. Then he jumped back from his disarmed opponent and pumped a fist in victory.

It was an incredible move—seeing something involving physical strength was rare in a duel, and completely unexpected by everyone. Professor Longbottom announced the end of the duel, and Aidan was whooping in Eftan's face as the Hufflepuffs burst into cheers, taking their first tournament title.

"Who's Head Boy _now?_" yelled Aidan in triumph.

"Oh, come on," said Eftan, pouting. "Just because he won the duel doesn't make him any more qualified a Head Boy than Aethan."

"At least he got to show everyone who's superior," said Aidan.

Euan was astonishingly modest. He shook Aethan's hand and grinned sheepishly at the audience, and he looked almost uncomfortable when Professor Longbottom patted him on the back and called for another round of applause. Albus glanced over at Molly; she seemed to be staring at Euan's body (begrudgingly so) with most of the female population (and some of the guys).

At last, it was time for bed. The older students pushed their way to the front of the line of exiting students, and the first years were thus pushed to the back. Albus moved past the stands, which had just been Transfigured back into the House tables.

"Hey," said Albus, following Eftan and gesturing Aidan and Alec over. "You want to meet up to study for the Charms test tomorrow?"

"Sounds good," said Eftan. "Library, after lunch?"

"Great," said Aidan.

"Can I come?" asked Holly, who had appeared from nowhere.

"Sure!" said Albus.

Alec looked peeved. Albus hoped Holly wouldn't notice that.

"See you all tomorrow, then," said Eftan, yawning. He started to depart for his common room.

Albus turned to see Scorpius walking out of the Great Hall. Following him was the boy Albus recognized as Red Pierce. He seemed to be whisper-shouting at Scorpius, and though it was soft, Albus heard some of it as they walked his way.

"…losing to that scum, you really need to step it up, she's a half-blood, kid of a Mudblood and a blood traitor, what's wrong with you?"

His blood turned to boiling ice as he pieced together the meaning. Red Pierce was aggravated at Scorpius for losing to Rose—because Rose was a half-blood? He thought that all of those mentalities were gone.

Scorpius stopped when he looked up and saw Albus. Red Pierce kept walking, shaking his head, and brushed past Albus. He looked around and his eyes narrowed, and then he continued.

Last out of the Great Hall were some older Ravenclaws. As they passed Scorpius, one of them gave a twitch to their wand and Scorpius's feet were swept out from under his body; he fell flat on his back on the floor and the Ravenclaws laughed.

"Hey, what's your problem?" shouted Albus. The Ravenclaws stared him down, then rolled their eyes and continued down the hallway.

Scorpius jumped up and brushed some dust off his robe. He glared at Albus—a response that Albus had not anticipated. Why not a "thank you?"

"What?" shot Albus.

"_Why are you doing this?_" screamed Scorpius unexpectedly. "_Why do you think I need your help?_"

Albus pulled himself up to his full height and stared Scorpius in the eye. He glared, but spoke very calmly.

"Why do _you_ think that _I_ think that you need my help? When did I ever say that you _needed_ my help?"

Scorpius looked momentarily flustered, but recovered.

"Well, good," he spat, "because I don't!"

"I never presumed such a thing," said Albus. "I know you don't _need_ my help, I just thought that it couldn't hurt."

Scorpius apparently had no response to this, and he just swept past Albus, muttering to himself.

Eftan gave a short laugh. "Well, at least he's talking to you. He rarely talks to anyone."

"I'd be friends with him if he weren't so…" Albus scratched his head.

"Unfriendly?" said Alec.

"Sure."

Albus frowned. It had been a while since the last time he saw Scorpius bullied, but he always came to Scorpius's defense whenever he saw it happen. Unfortunately, he knew that there were probably many times in which he didn't see it happen.

"Leave him alone, Albus, he'll appreciate it a lot more if you do," murmured Eftan.

"I don't see what his problem is," sighed Albus.

"No one understands him," said Eftan. "Because no one understands what his problem is."

Albus gave that some thought.

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that," protested Eftan. "I didn't mean that you should try to find out more about him. I meant that he's not going to open up to anyone, so you might as well, er… stop trying."

"I feel really bad for him," said Albus.

"Then respect his wishes," shrugged Eftan. "Leave him be."

"Leave him be," huffed Albus. "Fine."

"I think he'd appreciate that, Albus," said Holly.

Albus stared down the hallway where Scorpius had disappeared. Maybe Scorpius just needed time. He turned back to his own path, reluctantly, and trudged forward. Was the problem that no one was friendly towards him? If so, that was a terrible cycle, that he never allowed anyone to extend a friendly hand and so remained mostly friendless. Was he really doing Scorpius a favor by leaving him alone? Maybe Scorpius just didn't know how to act to someone who had been friendly to him.

He went to sleep hoping that he had made a difference. Maybe the difference would take time to sink in.


	15. Opening Old Wounds

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

OPENING OLD WOUNDS

O

Easter approached very slowly; it might have been because of all the work that the first years had received. It was as if all the teachers had organized a secret meeting and planned all of their assignments to be due on the same day.

But Easter, despite its apparent reluctance to arrive, finally came. Albus got together everything he needed to do and stepped on the Hogwarts Express to head home. He decided to get started on the train, since Easter was a big family get-together and he wanted to be able to spend as much time as possible with his cousins.

As he was describing in close detail his ideal Hirsuhedrora trim, he looked over to see Eftan showing Jonah another movie. He was going to turn back to his paper and ignore it, but something suddenly caught his eye on the screen.

He whipped his head back and stared at the phone. "What was that?"

"What was what?" asked Eftan.

Albus pointed at the screen. "This is a Moouggle phone!"

"So?" asked Jonah, frowning.

"So they just recorded a _dragon!_" gasped Albus as another dragon flew over the head of one of the main characters in whatever movie they were watching. "I thought Moouggles weren't supposed to know about dragons—how did they record one for this movie? That doesn't make sense, the Obliviators should have—"

"It's animated," said Eftan.

"What?"

"Animated," repeated Eftan. "See, it's really complicated to explain to someone who grew up in a Wizarding household, but… Moouggles can do weird things with what they record; they can—it's kind of like drawing things into the movie, and they have machines that can do it really well for them, and…" He squeezed one eye shut and tilted his head. "Am I making any sense to you?"

"Not really," admitted Albus. "But… let me get this straight… Moouggles can make it look exactly like there's a dragon there, when there actually isn't?"

"Pretty much," said Eftan. He looked relieved that Albus understood; he was having a hard time expressing the mechanics of "animation" in a clear way.

"But…" Albus was starting to see a gaping hole in his grandfather's argument. "But then… Moouggles would never be able to tell what's real, and what's fake!"

"What do you mean?" asked Eftan.

"I mean…" Albus ran his hands through his hair. "Remember at the debates, when my Grandpa Weasley took a picture of the dragon and showed everyone in the audience? If he had done that… I mean, anyone could have just, er, animated it in. So how would anybody be able to tell what's real and what's fake?"

The compartment fell silent.

"That's a really good point," said Eftan quietly.

"I didn't think of that," said Jonah.

"I was thinking it a little bit," said Sylvester.

Aidan glanced over at Albus. "Aren't you going to see your grandpa this week?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "I could ask him."

"Do ask him," said Alec. "I wanna know what he says."

"I'll relay the question," said Albus. "I gotta finish this now, though." He turned back to his assignment.

But he found that it was extremely hard to concentrate now. How could he think of the best possible mustache for a plant when he had just thought of something that had not even been considered by a room full of adults debating the topic?

His mind was whirring with these thoughts all the way to King's Cross, and he found that his essay was no longer when he arrived than when he had brought up the question.

O

His parents picked him up at the station and brought him straight to the Burrow, where the Easter holidays were typically spent. Albus ran up to his usual room to finish up his work before the rest of the Weasleys arrived. Once the familiar shouts sounded from the fireplace, though, it was hard to resist the temptation to run down and say hi to his cousins; eventually he gave in and decided he could do his homework during the nights.

"Albus!" cried his grandma as he reached the bottom of the stairs. She gathered him up in a big hug and kissed the side of his head several times before releasing him to his cousins. "You ran right upstairs, I didn't even get to say hello!"

"Sorry," grinned Albus.

He then turned to run and tackle Teddy, who had just arrived. Teddy laughed as Albus put him in a headlock, and turned his skin blue as the cousins loved him to do, shouting, "Help! I can't breathe!"

He then turned and got above Albus, pretending to pummel Albus with his fists and laughing. Albus couldn't help notice that his breath smelled like the same gum that Victoire always loved to chew.

The rest of the cousins arrived in droves, nearly colliding continuously as they tumbled through the fireplace. The room was filled with a dozen different conversations.

"How's Auror Training, Teddy, I hear they're thrilled to have a Metamorphmagus of your caliber—"

"Yes, we got the idea for the Knee-Knockers from Charlie; it's how they take care of the dragons, you see, you can take down anything if you get its legs—"

"I was certain this particular pyramid's curse would take a few more days to crack at least, I'm very glad we finished before Easter and the full moon tomorrow, you know how I get the headaches—"

"Albus is doing phenomenal; we got him a Sheerer 720 for Christmas as a present for doing so well—"

"—dreadfully exhausting, really, everything I'm doing, all the meetings and reading all the advisor reports, it's all crammed so tight that I feel like I'm losing time if I _blink_ during the day—"

The family slowly spread out across the house, meeting again for dinner. Uncle Percy had to leave before dinner, but Molly and Lucy and Aunt Audrey stayed; Percy promised to be back for Easter dinner. Nobody blamed him for leaving, of course—being the Minister was a tough job, to say the least—but when Harry had to go, Albus distinctly saw his mother's eye twitch as she worked her jaw from side to side.

There was a great game of Quidditch with the Weasley cousins and Teddy. Victoire refereed, not being a fan of Quidditch herself, as Teddy, Dominique, Louis, James, Albus, and Lily took on Molly, Lucy, Freddie, Roxanne, Rose, and Hugo. Roxanne and Freddie carried their team, as Freddie constantly screwed around with the other team by diving at them full-speed, and Roxanne had no reservations about knocking her cousins off their brooms. She was probably set to become a great Beater for Gryffindor soon; she was on the reserve squad, so she'd probably only get on the team after the master beaters Sally Songhorn and Kieran Dougan were out of school; they were in their sixth year now.

"I'm happy with that ending score," said James, jumping down from his broom when they called it quits; it was starting to get dark.

"You're happy that you lost?" asked Lucy, jumping down next to him.

"What? The final score was two hundred and forty for us to two hundred and ten from you guys."

"Like hell! We won, two hundred and thirty to two hundred, I was counting diligently!"

"Most certainly not! I at least remember that we were up by thirty!"

"I don't trust a Seeker to keep score when he's playing Chaser!"

"That's total rubbish, we have to make absolute sure we know the score so we don't catch the Snitch if we're down by more than—"

"Ladies, please!" called Victoire. "Don't needle your knarls. You were tied at two hundred and twenty."

James and Lucy ignored the referee and continued arguing about the score all the way up to the house, culminating in James throwing a garden gnome at Lucy, and her retaliating by shoving him into the Rancidendron bushes. They were pretty flowers, but they let out a horrible scent if they were uprooted. James smelled terrible for the rest of the day, and he swore unending vengeance upon his cousin.

O

All through Saturday night and Sunday morning, James would appear out of nowhere and pull some sort of prank on Lucy; every time he did so, he'd shout "UNENDING VENGEANCE!" and dart away before she could follow him. It was some of the best entertainment Albus had gotten in a while, and he and most of his cousins took to hanging around wherever Lucy was idling, just in case there was another James moment.

All in all, the mood was very cheerful and pleasant when the family gathered for dinner. Ginny was happy because Harry was able to stay the entire Easter Sunday, and Aunt Audrey was happy because Percy was able to come for dinner. It seemed, at least within their family, like the world was finally calm and contented.

Albus hadn't forgotten the idea he'd entertained on the train. He was just wondering whether he should wait until after dinner to bring it up, when Grandpa Weasley offered him the perfect segue into the topic.

"So, Albus!" he said jovially, peering down the table. "I hear that you and your class got to see me talk at the Ministry debates!"

Percy twitched. Several of the adults noticed, and they tensed.

"Yes, we did," said Albus. "I thought it was really, er… boring. I mean, I know it was important, but…"

"Yes, I suppose it was! Boring but ultra-important. You're going to have a story to tell your grandkids, aren't you? You sat in on one of the most important international debates of the past couple centuries!"

"Yeah," said Albus, trying to ease the transition into his question. "Some of it was really interesting, I mean—it was really cool learning about the Moouggle tech—the Muggle technology, I mean—" His face heated up.

Grandpa Weasley roared with laughter; so did some of the other adults. "Did you just say Moouggle, Albus?" he managed to say through the hilarity.

Albus shrunk back into a seat, hoping he'd grow a turtle shell in which he could hide.

"You liked Mbato's accent, did you, then? Yes—the term for 'Muggle' in Swahili is 'Muogo,' which is why he has a hard time with the similar pronunciation of the English term… I believe 'Muogo' is derived loosely from the word for 'small…' no offense, Audrey, dear…"

"That's perfectly all right," said Audrey, smiling.

"I was wondering something," said Albus, deciding to go for it before they wandered too far in the conversation, or it would be awkward to return to the topic. "About the Muggle technology you were talking about?"

"Yes?" Grandpa Weasley looked very happy at the chance to share his extensive knowledge on Muggles.

"Well… Do you know what… er… what animation is?"

Grandpa Weasley nodded, and he had a look in his eye like he knew where this was going.

"Well… wouldn't animation make it impossible for Moo—for Muggles to determine whether or not a picture of a dragon is real or fake?"

All eyes turned to Grandpa Weasley; the adults had stopped their conversation, too.

"That's an excellent point," he responded. "I believe that was brought up in the technical advisement meetings. And the answer to that question is that it is impossible for anything to be proven as an actual photograph. But it's not so simple as a question of whether Muggles believe the picture alone—what if hundreds of eyewitnesses can confirm the event, and can pick out the real picture from hundreds of fakes? Then, if no one else, the Muggle government at least is investigating the—"

"We take measures to prevent any investigations," said Percy gruffly.

Grandpa Weasley's eyes narrowed.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as swiftly as if a Dementor had arrived. Everyone in the room tensed—even all of the kids could tell that the mood had swung like a pendulum.

"You assume your measures are complete and perfect," said Grandpa Weasley.

"You assume we are entirely incompetent," growled Percy.

Grandpa Weasley's hands curled into fists. "I assume that a single oversight is possible, and that a single oversight would be enough to cause enough damage that a large group of people will suffer if that mistake is made!"

"All right, I think that's enough, dear," said Grandma Weasley.

"We are doing _everything we can_ to protect the Muggles, including protecting them from the knowledge of our world which will unfortunately be timed with a very serious threat to the Wizarding world—and then what will Muggles think of us, when they discover that this hidden magical world is about to wage war on itself!"

"What will they think of us if we let Muggles die by our hands and continue to deprive them of an explanation?" said Grandpa Weasley, his voice rising as he leaned over the table further.

Percy grew louder in response. "You think I don't care about Muggles? You think I don't care about Audrey's family—that I'm doing nothing to protect her friends, her nieces, her nephews? When we are already doing _everything we possibly can_, I see a severe flaw in any plan which asks us to do more!"

"Helio Wilcox agrees with me!" argued Grandpa Weasley. "Great wizards all across the world—the best of us know! Harry, you know Helio, tell him!"

Harry squirmed slightly in his seat awkwardly; Albus knew him to be on Percy's side, but evidently, his father did not want to mention that. "Er…" said Harry, scratching his sideburns. "Er…"

"I've talked with Helio Wilcox many times," said Percy, trying to calm himself back down. "I'm certain he's got his heart in the right place, but he just does not quite understand the implications, I'm sorry to say—"

"Are you saying we're idiots?" thundered Grandpa Weasley. "Are you insulting me?"

"WHAT?"

Any chance of Percy calming himself down was lost with this accusation. He seemed on the verge of standing up as he snarled, "What do you mean, am I insulting you? No one said—"

"Something horrible is about to happen in this world!" shouted Grandpa Weasley; the adults at the table all grimaced and threw glances at the kids, as if they hadn't wanted their children to hear that. "I would know! I've lived through it twice! Something terrible is going to happen, and it is going to affect the Muggles, as it has _every time in the past_! And if we don't tell them what's going on, then one of two things is going to happen: they're going to find out, or they're going to blame their own governments! Mistrust and mayhem and anarchism and war ensues in the Muggle world, because wizards are too selfish to do what—"

"SELFISH?"

Percy rose from his seat.

"Perce, please," whimpered Aunt Audrey, tugging at his arm, her eyes watering.

Percy ignored her. "SELFISH?" he roared. "WE DECIDE NOT TO INFORM THE MUGGLE WORLD, AND SUBSEQUENTLY, WE DO NOT HAVE TO DIRECT RESOURCES AND MANPOWER INTO CALMING THEM DOWN AND HELPING THEM LEARN ABOUT US—INSTEAD, WE ARE USING THESE RESOURCES TO TRY AND _PREVENT THESE TERRIBLE EVENTS FROM HAPPENING—THIS IS SELFISH TO YOU?_"

"AND WHAT IF YOU CAN'T DO IT?" bellowed Grandpa Weasley, who had also stood up. "WHAT IF YOU CAN'T STOP THE STORM FROM COMING? THEN YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WHATEVER HAPPENS TO THE MUGGLES! YOU CAN'T TAKE THE CHANCE NOT TO TELL THEM IF THERE ARE LIVES AT STAKE HERE, IF LIVES CAN BE SAVED—"

Now they were both shouting over each other, and it was nearly impossible to hear either of them.

The row continued for about thirty seconds before finally, someone else became fed up with the fight and got involved; Grandma Weasley stood up next and slammed a fist onto the table very violently, clearly expressing how she felt about this dinner etiquette; all of the plates jumped into the air on the slam, and a glass that was too close to the edge tilted off and shattered on the floor.

As if that were a signal, both men stopped talking, and they stared each other down, glaring with intense loathing.

Suddenly, without a word, they both turned from the table and with two loud cracks, they both Disapparated from the room; their chairs had caught fire.

Aunt Audrey was sitting very still and rigid, but tears were streaming down her face. Grandma Weasley was the only one left standing, and she looked utterly shocked. Aunt Fleur had a hand over her mouth, and Uncle George looked sick and angry. Albus's mother and father had both squeezed their eyes shut.

"Well," said Uncle Charlie, stabbing his fork through his ham and leaving it there, leaning back in his chair and sighing. "What a lovely family dinner."

Albus glanced around at all the solemn faces staring at their plates, and thought this was probably good practice for attending a funeral. Nobody spoke, nobody looked at each other, nobody touched their plates, and nobody got up from the table.

Grandma Weasley slowly sank down into her chair again, and her face became scrunched up. Abruptly the tears broke through, and she started to sob. Uncle Bill was closest to her, and he started rubbing her back with one hand, holding her hand with his other. She leaned into his shoulder and silently continued, and the only sounds in the room for the next full minute were Grandma Weasley's sniffles; shuddering, heaving breaths; and the slow scratch of Bill's hand on the back of her sweater. The fire slowly consumed the two empty chairs, and no one did anything about the smoke slowly filling the room.

Two loud _cracks_, one immediately after the other, made everyone at the table jump. Albus craned his neck around in his seat, and saw both Uncle Percy and Grandpa Weasley standing there, next to each other, and his heart leapt, but then it dropped even further when he saw their ominous expressions.

Both men's faces were white as sheets. They slowly staggered back to their chairs, extinguishing them, and sat down, taking themselves off of their shaky legs.

The silence continued. Grandma Weasley was staring at Percy, and he was staring back at her, looking like he would have been upset at the mood he left her in, except that there was something about which he was even more worried.

"What is it?" said Audrey, finally.

Neither man answered.

"What happened?" said Harry sternly.

"Five thousand," whispered Percy.

"What?" said Ginny.

"Five thousand and three hundred," he said, whitening even further as he said it. "Five thousand, three hundred… an estimate."

"An estimate of what?" said Grandma Weasley, her face paling, too.

Albus couldn't understand to what they were referring, but he had a feeling that he shouldn't want to know.

_Five thousand and three hundred what? An estimate of what?_

"I'm sorry," said Percy, staring at Grandpa Weasley. "I… I never thought…"

"I didn't think it would go this far, this soon," he responded.

Uncle Charlie stared down Grandpa Weasley, and then Uncle Percy. "Tell us what happened," he said shortly.

"Five thousand," repeated Percy in a quavering voice. "And three hundred."

"Five thousand and three hundred what?"

Percy squeezed his eyes shut and squeezed his wife's hand.

"Muggles."

It felt like a blow directly to the stomach. The room was unbearably quiet, the silence pressing in on them, heads seeming to spin. Albus's throat went dry as he realized what the implications were from that one word.

_Muggles?_

_Muggle… lives?_

"Five thousand and three hundred," said Percy again. "An estimate."

The news with which they had returned created an even more dismal mood than had been cast by their departure. As if to commemorate the dead, the entire family remained in their seats for so long that it was impossible to keep track. When they finally rose from the table, it was time to go to bed, which was just as well, because it would have been hard to find something enjoyable to do after the news that had been broken.

Albus headed up the stairs with his cousins once the table was cleared, hearing several clicks as the Weasley family clock turned nearly all of its hands to "bed." He heard strange, deep breathing as he passed the room where Victoire and Teddy were staying; he peeked in through the cracked door to see the two of them entwined on the bed, kissing through pouring tears, and rolled his eyes. James, coming up after Albus, wasn't even in enough of his usual pestering mood to bother the pair; he didn't even look through the door.

They all silently climbed into their beds in the upper floor rooms and fell asleep with difficulty. Screaming Muggle parents and crying Muggle children tormented the backs of Albus's eyelids, and he had to wipe his eyes several times on his pillowcase before the painful visions finally transitioned into miserable dreams.

O

Albus learned more details about the incident on the following day, although he did not want to hear them.

There had been silent attacks on Muggles for several years now. It was usually nothing that was difficult to rectify without inciting a panic in the Muggle community. But yesterday, a group of wizards stole dragons from a sanctuary in the mountains of England, and set them loose on Muggle towns while they themselves swept through and obliterated houses. Twenty-nine witches and wizards alone had claimed over five thousand Muggle lives. And every single one had managed to avoid capture.

Now the pictures and videos were circulating through the Muggle creation that Albus had heard about before, the "Internet," and it was having a disastrous effect. People were able to watch the destruction, and it was hard to pass this off as animation: the videos were complete with accounts of certain people who died, along with all of their wounds, and exact damage to buildings explained. Harry was called to work as an Obliviator, because they were incredibly short in that department. He left directly after Easter dinner, along with Percy, to try to improve the dire situation.

"They've forced our hand," Percy had kept muttering to anyone who was nearby. "I can't believe they'd do something like this. We may have to do it… We may have to do it after all."

It looked as though the Wizarding World wasn't going to be a secret from the Muggles for much longer.

O

There was very little fun in the entire rest of the weekend; with a catastrophe like that hanging overhead, it was hard to focus on anything else. Albus began to notice that none of his holidays so far had ended on a happy note, and he wished with all his heart that the terrible things which had happened so far were not destined to escalate.

Percy was meeting with the Prime Minister on the day that Albus returned to King's Cross to board the train. Apparently, they were discussing whether the global revelation was going to happen—and if so, when. Percy predicted, if things kept going the way they were, that the announcement to the Muggle world would be delivered by the beginning of summer. He also said that all hell would probably break loose, but that the other option was potentially worse.

Both Albus's mother and father escorted him to the Hogwarts Express, and when he boarded, they looked as though they were reluctant to let him go.

"Not as if I'm worried about your safety at Hogwarts," said Harry when James brought this up to him as they were departing. "There's probably no safer place; Helio Wilcox's watchful gaze makes me as comfortable as Albus Dumbledore's once did. It's just… In times like this, you want to have your family close."

"Then you should come to Hogwarts with us!" said James.

Harry laughed. "I'm sorry, but I've got to get back to the Ministry right after this. They need everyone they can get over there."

The train whistled, and Harry pushed his kids through the door.

"We'll see you soon," called Ginny. "Less than three months."

The train started to move.

"We love you, so much," said Harry. He waved and turned to comfort Lily, who was devastated again that she wasn't going to Hogwarts until the year after next.

Albus returned to his usual compartment, filled with his usual group of friends. He sat down and noticed immediately that the mood in here was not much cheerier than the mood at the Burrow.

"Did you hear?" asked Eftan as Albus sat down.

Albus nodded gravely.

"My dad's friend had a cousin who was killed," said Sylvester. "He says the friend is really angry and he thinks it's the government's fault, that they were doing something that they shouldn't have done."

At that moment, several second year Slytherins walked by the door, talking and laughing loudly. One of them was making a monster-like face and pretending to attack one of his friends, who was squealing like a girl while the rest of them were almost doubled over with hilarity. It didn't take a genius to figure out what it was at which they were poking fun.

Sylvester rose from his seat furiously and made for the door. Before he got outside, Eftan reached out and pulled him back.

"Not worth it," muttered Eftan into Sylvester's ear.

Sylvester sat back down, but he took out his wand and tapped it on his thigh; the wand was emitting a low growl.

"They're bloody idiots," said Eftan. "We all know that, and that's enough. No need to get yourself into trouble."

"I'd rather go out with a message than live silent," said Sylvester.

The compartment grew as silent as the Weasley family dinner table.

"You guys don't hang around much with the other Slytherins, do you?" whispered Albus to Eftan when conversations began again.

"No," said Eftan. "Neither of us really hang around with the Slytherin group much… They're not awful to us, just generally unpleasant to everybody else. If we were good friends with any of them, we'd probably have to pretend to despise you guys."

"Thanks for not despising us," said Albus, smiling.

"There are some exceptions," said Eftan. "Scorpius hangs out with the Greengrass triplets, because they're his cousins. I think most of the animosity is directed towards Gryffindor. Old rivalry. It's like we inherit it as soon as we're Sorted."

"And Slytherin thinks that Hufflepuff is composed entirely of ninnies," said Alec, who had tuned in a little while ago.

"That's one way to put it," said Eftan. "Oh, and did I mention that even though Sylvester likes our group of friends here, he can't stand Aidan?"

Albus started.

"What? Why? Aidan's fun to have around."

"He doesn't even know why, but he gets really annoyed when Aidan's around," laughed Eftan. "I thought it was maybe because Aidan's kind of a know-it-all, but Sylvester says Rose is the same way but he's fine with her company."

"Weird," said Albus. "Well, as long as he doesn't outwardly express his aversion to Aidan's company, I guess it's not a problem."

"He said the same thing, he likes everybody else," said Eftan.

"Weird," echoed Alec.

"Don't tell Aidan I said that."

"I won't," said Albus.

The train rolled slowly forward.

"Hey, Eftan," said Alec, after they had changed into their school robes, being very close now to Hogwarts. "You grew up with a Muggle family and all Muggle friends, didn't you?"

"Yeah?"

"From a Muggle perspective… what do you think would happen if there was a global revelation? If they all found out about us?"

Eftan stared at the window, like he was looking back on the world which he was leaving as he returned to school.

"I think all hell would break loose," he said quietly.

The train pulled back into Hogsmeade Station for the final countdown to summer.


	16. The Global Revelation

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

THE GLOBAL REVELATION

O

Over the last few months of classes, a cloud seemed to loom over the entire school. Several Muggle-borns in Hogwarts had lost family to the tragic incident. There was a moment of silence during the first feast after break, during which a Slytherin was given detentions for the rest of the year for his vocal reenactment of a Muggle being eaten by a dragon.

Tension between Slytherin and the other houses was more prevalent than Albus had ever seen it, including before the Quidditch matches. It didn't help that Slytherin was playing Hufflepuff next—the Hufflepuffs were fueled by righteous anger and were ready to thrash their opponents for the comments that a couple of them had made about the tragedy.

In fact, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin so thoroughly that Devon Elbiell, a second year Chaser on their team, set a new school record for goals scored in a game. The sun was behind clouds the whole morning, which apparently made it harder to see the Snitch because it didn't glint, and so Euan Yodelhop didn't catch the Snitch until Hufflepuff had scored over sixty goals (though it was also possible that he wanted Slytherin to be further embarrassed). The final score was seven hundred and ninety to two hundred, which meant that if Gryffindor were to take the House Cup, they would have to win by _over six hundred points _to Ravenclaw.

"It's… not im_poss_ible…" said Dominique through clenched teeth and closed eyes when Albus met her in the halls. "But I'd prefer not to think about it right now. We'll just try to get as many goals as possible without worrying about the score; James can worry about when to get the Snitch."

Albus tried to ask Victoire whether she thought they were going to be able to win, but Victoire shushed him and hurried away, looking harried, hair everywhere and her nose pressing against the inside of one of her books; Albus remembered that she was taking her N.E.W.T. exams soon.

None of the Gryffindor players seemed to be able to relax in the days leading up to the match; everywhere Albus saw a member of the team, they looked exhausted and stressed. In sharp contrast to the way that the days dragged themselves to Easter with their fingertips, it was a sprint to the finish in the last month of classes: teachers crammed them full of material, and studying was pretty much the only pastime that could be seen; in every part of the castle, books were open, notes were laid out, and bags were forming under most students' eyes. But despite the pressure, it was sad to know that they would be leaving this place in a few short weeks.

O

Finally, the last Quidditch match was upon them, and Albus went out with most of the school to the pitch so they could see if Gryffindor could overcome this enormous deficit.

"Where's Wilcox?" asked Alec, looking over at the staff stands.

"Don't know," said Aidan, furrowing his brow. "Probably doesn't matter to him; Slytherin has barely any chance of doing better than third place."

"He should still be here," said Albus. "It's the last match of the Quidditch season."

"It's the last match of the Quidditch season!" announced Barry shortly after Albus uttered the exact same sentence; his friends laughed. "Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw! Now I want to remind everyone of what's at stake here… Gryffindor needs to win by _over six hundred_—not just score six hundred, they need to _win by more than six hundred points_ if they're going to take the Quidditch Cup! Ravenclaw, on the other hand, would have to win by nine hundred and thirty or more, so Gryffindor shouldn't be complaining.

"You may have known this already. Here's something you might not have known! If Ravenclaw beats Gryffindor by exactly one hundred and sixty points, then there will be a three-way tie for second place! If Ravenclaw beats Gryffindor by more than that, they will take second and Gryffindor will take last. And if Gryffindor doesn't lose by more than a hundred and fifty, they take second place.

"But since both teams are probably aiming to win big, neither Seeker will probably be catching the Snitch until it becomes clear that neither team is pulling ahead. Of course, Hogwarts official Quidditch rules state that any match that exceeds six hours must end with a Seeker face-off, and if they take more than an hour to end the game, then the final score stands without the Snitch. We're in for a long one, folks, because if neither team is dominates, that'll probably be where we end up.

"So, if you don't want to be here for seven hours, fans, let's give these teams a reason to take first place! Let 'em hear you cheer!"

The stadium was filled with louder cheers than had preceded any of the five previous games. The fans were all dying to see the action.

Several hours later, they were simply dying to leave.

As Barry had predicted, the fact that neither team was dominating meant that neither Seeker was attending to the Snitch. Albus actually saw it once, fluttering near Kalina Moon's head; she tried to punch it. He wondered vaguely whether Kalina had one blue eye and one purple eye like her sister; Albus had never seen Kalina up close. And Mia had a Hufflepuff sister, too—Mavis. He wondered what her eyes were like.

His brother was playing in the game, but Gryffindor was down by thirty and unable to get closer, so it became very hard to stay focused. Some people were taking naps; Albus wondered how they could possibly do so in such bright sunshine. Others had brought studying materials with them and only tuned in for a couple seconds at a time.

Albus got into a long discussion about the Global Revelation with Aidan, Alec, and Eftan while the match progressed, which carried them for about a half hour, and then they switched to the next Quidditch World Cup, which would take place shortly before their third year. The general consensus was that Peru had gotten extremely good, but no one knew who they would be playing. India and China had gotten much better in recent years, also, and they were now contenders where they had never been competitive before.

They thoroughly covered the topics of exams, third year electives and career options, and Muggle methods of communication before a whistle finally sounded signifying that the six-hour mark had been reached, and Gryffindor was down by a score of eight hundred and eighty to eight hundred and twenty. It had already broken several school records—Dominique had just broken Devon Elbiell's new goal record—and now it was time to see who would take second; whoever lost the Seeker duel would take fourth. Slytherin was secured at third.

The Seekers took the field alone. The stands were mostly empty now—most people had left—but a good number of students returned just to see the end of the match.

James was significantly better than Kalina, though, and it wasn't hard to see that. Within a minute and a half, he'd pulled out of a dive with the Snitch. Kalina was looking rather pouty about it. Albus caught sight of her as they meandered back into the school, and saw that her eyes were just like her sister's.

As he was thinking about Mia, she popped up beside him, looking rather happy about the fact that Hufflepuff had taken the Quidditch Cup for its sixth year in a row.

"Hi, Albus," she said with a soft smile.

"Hey, Mia!"

"I was wondering… if you wanted to study for the Charms exam, sometime soon?"

Albus bit his lip. "Er… Sorry, I kind of already made plans to study Charms with Holly."

Mia blinked slowly. "Oh. But… she doesn't even have Charms with us…"

"Well, no, but we do cover pretty much the same material between the two sections… Besides, she's kinda worse at Charms than everything else, so she needs a little extra help." He shrugged. "You're welcome to join us?"

"No," she said stiffly, "I don't think I will."

And she walked swiftly away.

Alec hurried over to Albus. "What was that about?"

"Mia wanted to study with me, and then she didn't," said Albus, still trying to understand it.

Alec smoothed his hair out and walked swiftly after her.

Eftan caught up with Albus next and rolled his eyes at Alec; they both laughed.

"Where's Aidan?"

"Gloating," said Eftan. "I ditched him. If I have to hear about how perfect and flawless and handsome Euan Yodelhop is again, I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Finch-Fletchley is madly in love with Yodelhop," said Sylvester, pulling up beside Eftan. "They were meant to be together."

Albus recalled that Sylvester wasn't Aidan's biggest fan.

"So, time to start studying our hats off?" asked Eftan.

Albus nodded. "Time to start studying _everything_ off."

"I bet Finch-Fletchley would like to study everything off of Yodelhop," interjected Sylvester.

O

Wilcox was not around much in the following week, as Albus noticed on Tuesday when he was yet again absent from the staff table. He asked Professor Desulgon about it in Transfiguration, and got an explanation.

"Professor Wilcox is attending several international meetings," said Professor Desulgon to the class. "He's well respected in magical law as well as education. I believe he is strongly pressing for a global revelation in the fear that… more bad things will happen if we don't."

Now Wilcox was on the side of those pressing for a revelation. It seemed as though there was no stopping it now.

Albus looked behind him to see the headmaster's son's reaction. Exo was barely paying attention; his head was in his hands and he was rubbing his temples.

"You okay?" he asked.

Exo grumbled. "Headaches."

A connection formed itself in Albus's head—this was exactly what Uncle Bill went through on the day of the full moon. Headaches and slight sickness. Maybe it was worse for younger children. Maybe Exo was _part_ werewolf.

He did eat a lot of meat. But not rare meat. And he didn't have any scars. And his personality didn't seem to change… did it?

He recalled Exo lashing out at Riley in the Astronomy tower. Tonight was another Astronomy class, and another full moon. He decided to pay close attention and see if his conjecture that Exo was part-werewolf was accurate.

Every time he thought about Exo's affliction, it confused him a lot. He wished Exo would be trusting enough to tell him. Or maybe he'd just find out one day.

Transfiguration ended, and dinner started, but Exo was nowhere to be found. In fact, he didn't even show up for Astronomy that night.

O

Albus crossed the common room to where he saw the group of Gryffindor first year girls sitting around Rose, curious about what they were up to.

Lucy bumped Albus with her shoulder as she passed. "Hey, kid," she said. "Good luck on your first final exams!"

"Thanks," grinned Albus as she winked.

She put a hand to her chin. "'First final' exams? That's an odd phrasing, but I guess it makes sense… I mean, how else would you—"

Abruptly, a large pie appeared out of thin air next to Lucy's head, flew towards her, and splattered all over her robes. She cringed and went rigid from shock as James's head appeared a short distance away, floating in the air.

"UNENDING VENGEANCE!" he bellowed.

He turned and ran out of the common room as Lucy whipped out her wand and stormed after him, shouting, "C'MERE, YOU CREEP!"

Albus laughed along with most of the room's occupants. He walked over towards Rose and the group of girls surrounding her.

"Not in the library?" he asked her.

"Everyone else is in the library," said Rose. "It's actually pretty quiet in here."

"Apart from the occasional pie to the face," he reminded her.

Rose nodded. "Apart from that. Now quiet for a moment; I'm trying to remember Gaimond's Law."

"Gaimond's Law states that—"

"_SHUT UP!_"

She put a hand up. "This is the first thing I've forgotten all day! If I've forgotten this and can't remember it, then there's probably more that I've forgotten and won't remember on the exam and then before you know it I miss four or five questions!"

"What a tragedy that would be," said Candy, rolling her eyes.

"NO!" shouted Rose suddenly, and they all jumped. "No—I remembered it! Gaimond's Law states that the average Kinesis of a spell varies by a degree of four point nine percent with the phase of the moon."

"Good job!" said Pallie. "What's Kinesis?"

"Kinesis is the potency factor of the manifestation of a spell," recited Rose.

"What phase of the moon makes spells the most powerful?" asked Wendy.

"The full moon, that was too easy," said Rose. "Give me another hard one!"

"They're all too easy for you," laughed Dori. "Want to move onto Charms now? We're done with Transfiguration."

"I guess so," said Rose. "Hey, Albus, want to help us study for Charms?"

"Actually, I was just about to go study with Holly," said Albus.

Rose grinned broadly.

"All right then," she said, and she leaned into her circle of girls, tittering quietly with them. Albus heard his name once or twice among the whispers, and Holly's, too, as he gathered his stuff back up and turned to leave for the library, getting red in the face.

He stepped into the library and found Holly; she was waving brightly to him. He laid down his books beside her and opened his Charms notebook.

"This book is terrible," said Holly, gesturing to her _Charming_ book. "It's so vague on all the definitions, and Plinky's so strict."

"Yeah," said Albus, though he was pretty sure that definitions were the thing the book did best, and that Plinky was very lenient on exact wording in essays.

"So what do you want to study?"

Albus shrugged. "I don't know… You were the one who asked me to study, so I figured you'd know what you wanted to study…"

"But you must need to study, too!" insisted Holly.

"Not… really?" said Albus, trying not to sound too big-headed. "I mean, I guess I know all the basic stuff, which should be enough, he hasn't really tested us on more than the basics all year…"

"You didn't have to study?" said Holly, eyes shining. "You only came down here because I said I needed help studying?"

"Er…"

Holly threw her arms around him. "Oh, _thank you!_ You're such a nice guy!"

Albus's ears had never felt so overheated. He laughed and awkwardly put his arms around her, too, until she broke off and turned back to her book.

"So, what's this whole thing about the caveats for Ritell's Rule for Animation Charms?"

Albus zoned out a little bit, recreating the hug in his head.

"Albus?"

"Oh, I think that's the one where you have to loosen your fingers around the wand if you want to animate an inanimate object," said Albus, snapping slightly back.

"Yes, I know," said Holly. "I was asking about the caveats? I don't understand that."

"Oh. Sorry, I'm…"

He didn't want to say "distracted," because she might then follow up with the question of what was distracting him, and he didn't want to admit that it was her.

"Sleepy," he finished instead.

"Oh," said Holly. "Do you need to get back early tonight?"

"No, not at all," said Albus.

Holly beamed at him. "You're so _nice_!"

His ears started to burn again.

O

Alec and Mia had started studying together every day. Apparently Alec really had asked her after she had declined Albus's offer to study together. Every time Albus hit the library, Mia was there with Alec. Aidan observed that this was very healthy for Alec—he was, incredibly, actually studying for sizeable periods of time. He was even studying on his own so that he could impress Mia when they studied together.

Meanwhile, the rest of the school was stressing; it had finally become the day before the exams. Charms and Potions were first for the first years, so Albus was meeting with Holly a lot for Charms preparation. She was scooting her chair closer and closer to him every day, and on the day before the exam, her chair was pressed right up against his as she pored over their notes a final time, looking sleepless.

"If I pass this, I'm gonna cry with joy," she said, massaging her scalp.

"Of course you'll pass, you'll do great," said Albus.

She smiled. "You know, that's what all my friends say… They refuse to study with me."

"What? Why?"

"They say I stress way too much for someone who's going to get the highest grade in the House," she mumbled. "But I really don't like Charms."

"Well, they should probably be nicer to you, and you shouldn't stress as much. I know you'll do fine."

Holly smiled and leaned her head against Albus's arm. It instantly went numb, as if contact with her head had eradicated all feeling in his arm.

She was about to fall asleep, so Albus woke her up and escorted her back to Ravenclaw Tower; she looked like to hit the floor and sleep there.

"I should study more," she said, yawning.

"No, you should sleep," said Albus sternly. "At this point, staying up later is just going to hurt you. We're not supposed to be out this late anyway. I know Madam Kohl doesn't care about staying in the library late during exam time, but you still have to get a decent amount of sleep."

"Okay," said Holly glumly.

She stepped away from him as they reached the top of the staircase, and knocked with the eagle-shaped knocker.

"What happens when an unstoppable spell meets an unbreakable shield?" mused a soft, melodic voice.

Holly glanced back at Albus sheepishly.

"What? I don't know the answer to that," said Albus, laughing.

"No, I know the answer," said Holly. "But I'd prefer if you didn't… We're not supposed to give the answers to anyone outside our House, see."

"Ah," said Albus. "That's okay, I'll head back now."

"Thanks."

Albus nodded and departed; he glanced back at Holly, who was whispering to the knocker; it answered, "Well put," and the door swung open to admit her.

Albus racked his brain for the answer to the question which had been asked, but he wasn't coming up with anything. It hurt his head to think about it. He wondered whether all Ravenclaws were informed of the various answers to the various questions, or whether they were just all smart enough to know the answers.

He tuned in to his surroundings, because he was hearing faint voices. He allowed the voices to lure him off of his path to Gryffindor Tower, and heard Helio Wilcox yet again; this was surprising to him, because Wilcox had not been present much since the last Quidditch match of the season; he was often at the Ministry, offering his guidance.

He was speaking with Professor Desulgon. "…boy, he's mad at me," said Wilcox. "He's furious that I didn't even show up the last time. Said he had to miss classes and then explain to everyone where he was, you know how he hates doing that."

"I worry about your son, if the global revelation is honestly going to happen," said Professor Desulgon. "You know how Muggles view… those like him. In their 'motion pictures' and the like."

"Yes, I know," said Wilcox, sighing.

Albus's pulse quickened; should he follow them and try to hear more? He might finally hear about what Exo's condition is.

But then he pictured James, in his Invisibility Cloak, stalking them, and for some reason, the thought that he was doing something which his brother would do made him feel terrible about it. He was betraying the trust of too many people by listening in to the conversation that the men were having which they thought was private.

He gathered up his courage to do the right thing, and he turned and walked away from the discussion, back to Gryffindor Tower, without paying attention to another word they said. He was glowing with inner pride on his moral choice.

Immediately after closing the portrait door, he wished he'd stayed to eavesdrop.

O

Exams were hell, to say the least, but it wasn't total hell. Albus felt that he did remarkably well on all exams, except the practical portion of Charms, during which he'd completely forgotten the incantation to the Softening Charm; it was the only one he'd forgotten to study, as he learned afterward by examining his notes. He'd kept Professor Plinky waiting for a good minute before finally remembering it, right before Plinky was about to have him move on to the next task of making an open wine bottle dance across the desk without spilling any of the liquid. Unfortunately, he was shaky on this after his experience with the Softening Charm, and he'd gotten Plinky more than a little wet (but at least he hadn't shattered the bottle like he heard Sylvester did).

When he described this failure to his friends, Alec was unsympathetic. He rolled his eyes and told Albus that the only reason it was such a shock was because Albus had never failed something that thoroughly before; after a few brushes with that experience, he said, it's not so crushing anymore. Alec then went on to brag about how he had aced his Charms exam (due to the copious amount of studying he'd done with Mia).

Alec's confidence was significantly lower, though, after the Potions exam; Alec was highly aversive to most material that wasn't shooting spells at things. On the other hand, Albus was thrilled with his Potions work.

The other tests went very well for most of them. Their most painless exam by far was Transfiguration, which was also their last exam; Professor Desulgon decided to give a much more basic test than usual. After the simple written portion, he randomly divided the first year students into groups of three, and gave them seven easy tasks to do in Transfiguration; each of the three members of the group got to pick two of the tasks to perform, and they were to pick one task to be successfully completed by everyone. Hardly anyone did a bad job on this exam, and when it was over, there was a feeling of contentment throughout the class.

Professor Desulgon caught their attention when the last group had finished, and he cleared his throat.

"We've run slightly over our allotted time, I hope you don't mind, seeing as how this was your last exam. Have a phenomenal summer, everybody!" He walked to the door and opened it. "I will see you all next year, unless I manage to tick off Professor Wilcox enough in the next three months that he bans me from the cas—"

"_GOOD AFTERNOON, STUDENTS._"

The booming voice made them all jump. It echoed throughout the castle; it seemed to come from the walls. Wilcox was magically enhancing his voice.

"_I WOULD LIKE YOU ALL TO TAKE A MINUTE OF YOUR TIME TO LISTEN TO THIS ANNOUNCEMENT, AS IT WILL AFFECT ALL OF YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES. THE DECISION ON THE GLOBAL REVELATION HAS FINALLY BEEN REACHED BY THE INTERNATIONAL CONFEDERATION OF WIZARDS._"

Immediate silence followed that remark, and for a few seconds, all that could be heard was the echo of Wilcox's voice in the walls, and the maniacal cackle of Peeves somewhere in the distance. Professor Desulgon stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, pressing his mouth into a thin line. He looked deathly nervous.

"_AGAIN, THE DECISION HAS BEEN REACHED ON THE QUESTION OF THE GLOBAL REVELATION. AFTER MUCH DEBATE, AND A LOT OF ANALYSIS ON WHICH WOULD BE THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS, THE INTERNATIONAL WIZARDING COUNCIL HAS ALMOST UNANIMOUSLY MADE THEIR CHOICE. THOSE IN DISAGREEMENT WERE SMALL ENOUGH IN NUMBERS THAT THEY HAVE BEEN OVERRULED FOR THE OVERALL GOOD OF THE WIZARDING COMMUNITY._

"_THE GLOBAL REVELATION WILL TAKE PLACE ON INTERNATIONAL ADELINA NELSON DAY THIS YEAR; ON JULY 15__th__, 2018._"

Professor Desulgon's mouth became the thinnest of thin lines. The entire class stared either at the ceiling or out the door, despite the fact that the voice seemed to be coming from everywhere.

"_THIS IS APPROXIMATELY ONE MONTH FROM NOW, WHICH WILL GIVE PEOPLE ENOUGH TIME TO TAKE CARE OF ANY AFFAIRS WHICH THEY MAY DEEM NECESSARY IN THE WAKE OF THE REVELATION, SUCH AS MOVING FROM THEIR PRIMARILY MUGGLE DWELLING PLACE IF THEY CONSIDER IT AS A DANGER TO HAVE CONTINUED RESIDENCE THERE. WE MUST STRESS TO ALL MEMBERS OF THE COMMUNITY, HOWEVER, THAT WE BELIEVE THAT MUGGLES AS A SOCIETY ARE PERFECTLY CAPABLE OF HANDLING THIS INFORMATION; WE BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE TRUSTWORTHY, AND THAT ANY OVERREACTIONS TO THE REVELATION WILL BE ISOLATED INCIDENTS WITH NO CONNECTION TO THE GENERAL MUGGLE ATTITUDE._

"_BUT WE MUST BEG YOU, PLEAD YOU, NOT TO USE MAGIC IN FRONT OF MUGGLES, OR OTHERWISE REVEAL YOURSELVES TO THEM, UNTIL AFTER THE GLOBAL REVELATION; WE ALSO IMPLORE YOU NOT TO SHOW OFF AFTERWARDS OR MAKE YOURSELVES A TARGET IN ANY WAY. FOR AS THE WIZARDING WORLD HAS OUR EXTREMIST GROUPS, WHO HAVE IN SOME WAY CONTRIBUTED TO THE NECESSITY OF THE REVELATION, THE MUGGLE WORLD IS SURE TO HAVE THEM AS WELL, AND THEY ARE SURE TO INHIBIT THE SMOOTH TRANSITION TO A REINTEGRATED WORLD. DO NOT PUT YOURSELF IN UNNECESSARY DANGER; FOR A SHORT TIME AFTER THE REVELATION, WE SUGGEST THAT YOU TAKE SECURITY MEASURES TO AVOID BEING A VICTIM OF AN UNFORTUNATE INCIDENT. WE DO NOT THINK IT IS LIKELY, BUT IT IS POSSIBLE. YOU WILL HAVE MORE INFORMATION ON THE SUGGESTED COURSES OF ACTION DELIVERED TO YOUR HOUSE WITHIN THE NEXT WEEK._

"_AGAIN… THE GLOBAL REVELATION WILL TAKE PLACE ON JULY 15__th__, 2018. THANK YOU. HAVE A SAFE SUMMER._"

The ringing silence consumed them. Though the test was over, and Professor Desulgon was still holding the door open, no one moved or made a sound. It was hard to imagine that anyone was even breathing; the entire announcement had felt like one long held breath, and that breath didn't seem likely to escape them until July 15th, 2018.

Albus glanced over to his friends. They were all looking a little nervous about the enormous news that had just been delivered to them. He glanced around the class as a whole, and everyone seemed to be in the same general uneasy state. Looking at the reaction to this announcement, Albus was filled with reservations about having supported the decision. If this was the feedback from the proclamation, how could anyone have thought that the global revelation was a good idea?

He glanced over at Professor Desulgon, who was staring at all of them collectively, a look of severe apprehension on his pale face.

"All hell's gonna break loose," he whispered.

* * *

**_Guess you're going to have to wait until the second book of the series to find out what Exo's condition is...! Some of you have already probably guessed it, of course. Tune in next week for the final chapter of the book, appropriately titled "All Hell," a very short installment, but which is so important that it definitely deserved its own chapter; and, on the same day, I'll do the first upload of Albus Potter and the Lunar Eclipse! Thanks for sticking with Albus all this way so far, we've still got a long way to go, and many new adventures within Hogwarts itself which are yet to come!_**


	17. All Hell

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

ALL HELL

O

"I can't even believe it," Victoire kept saying, slumped in her armchair after the N.E.W.T. tests, which were apparently nastily exhausting as expected. "I can't believe there's going to be a global revelation. I didn't think it was even possible, before Easter."

"How are they going to do it, again?" asked Albus, having just finished packing up his trunk; the Hogwarts Express left for home tomorrow morning, and he just wanted to hit his bed directly after tonight's feast without worrying about getting his stuff together.

"How are they going to do the Global Revelation, you mean?"

Albus nodded.

"Simultaneous press conferences," said Victoire. "With a lot of people in attendance. They're going to make the announcement at the same time all over the world, and then prove that they're serious by performing magic for the audience. I believe Helio Wilcox himself is going to make the announcement for the Prime Minister… I hope he stays safe."

"I'm sure he will," said Albus, a pit forming in his stomach despite his reassurances, which were more to himself than to Victoire.

A loud _thud_ sounded throughout the common room; Victoire and Albus both leapt to their feet and looked around until they saw Lucy with a Knee-Knocker stuck to the back of her legs.

As expected, James's head appeared out of thin air and shouted "UNENDING VENGEANCE!" before charging out of the portrait hole, Lucy right behind him, brandishing her wand and screaming like a madwoman.

Albus had to hand it to James; his brother had a talent for diffusing the tension. He laughed, hard, because he needed something to laugh about.

"I think it's time for the end-of-term feast," said Louis, walking up to his sister and cousin. "Come on, Victoire, I know the N.E.W.T.s knocked a lot out of you, but this is the last feast you'll ever get to go to at Hogwarts, you have to come!"

Exo was following shortly behind Louis, but kept going when Louis stopped. Albus recalled that Louis was Exo's mentor—how had he not thought to ask Louis if he knew Exo's condition?

But Louis was a great guy… Albus had never known him to be mean or mistrustful. Louis probably wouldn't tell, even if he knew. Was it still worth a try—would Louis be disappointed with Albus if he asked?

As he was debating this, Louis watched Exo leave through the portrait hole, and then he leaned down to Albus and whispered in his ear.

"Hey… You're friends with Exo, right? I know this may be a prying question, but… do you know what his illness is?"

Albus tried not to laugh.

"I was actually about to ask you that."

Louis smiled. "Ah, so that's a no?"

"I was wondering, actually," said Albus, shrugging, "if he was part-werewolf? Like your dad?"

Louis shook his head. "Definitely not. Dad gets a little rough around the edges on a full moon. Exo looks his healthiest when there's a full moon, for some reason."

"You don't think he's any part werewolf, then?"

"It could be some weird variation of the Transfection," pondered Louis. "But I tend to doubt it. I wonder if we'll ever know; his dad seems rather secretive about it. He asked me not to be nosy about it, said it was a sensitive topic for Exo."

"I know. He gets really defensive about it sometimes."

"I feel like all this secrecy, and reluctance to trust, is what's _making_ it such a sensitive topic for him," Louis remarked. "But that's just my opinion, I don't claim to know better than his father." He raised his voice after this and looked around. "Shall we head down to the feast?"

Victoire made an indistinguishable guttural sound.

"Shall I drag you down to the feast?" said Louis, rolling his eyes and taking Victoire's hand, pulling her out of the armchair as she continued to make throaty noises and try to fall backwards onto the chair.

With one hand still holding Victoire, Louis waved his wand at the chair in which she was sitting; spikes like a porcupine sprung up all over it. "Now will you stop trying to sit down?" he laughed; she finally groaned and stood all the way up.

"Are they really that exhausting?" asked Albus as he trotted alongside her; Victoire was very tall and it was hard to keep up with her long strides.

"They're nastily exhausting," she replied. "You don't really know until you've done spells for hours at a time… It is incredibly draining. The hardest spells are what they test you on, and those are the spells with the most Kinesis—have you learned Gaimond's Law yet?"

Albus nodded. "In Transfiguration."

"Wow, Desulgon moves fast through the material… The more Kinesis, the more powerful your spells become, but it drains you at a rate proportional to both your base Kinetic level and the channel resistance of the artifact being used—okay, I know I'm probably not making much sense to you, but I'm angry at having to study all this material just to pass one test, so I'm using my knowledge wherever else possible. Anyway, the point is that when you do advanced spellwork—when you do a lot of it—it is actually _extremely_ physically exhausting, and the results get poorer as you go. That's why Apparition should only be attempted across certain distances, and _never_ more than a few times consecutively; you're likely to leave a large percentage of your body behind if your reduced Kinetic level is too low. You can raise your level, make an augmented Kinetic level, with certain potions that are extremely laborious to make, like _MOTHER EFFING ACROPOTENTIA!_"

Victoire screamed this last phrase louder than Albus had ever heard her. "WHY THE HELL CAN I REMEMBER THE NAME NOW AND NOT WHILE I'M TAKING THE TEST?" she roared.

They thankfully reached the dining hall before she could physically injure herself or those around her. Albus joined the first year Gryffindor group and waited for Professor Wilcox to address them.

The chattering died down slowly as Wilcox stood up and raised his arms. He tugged on the front of his robes and clasped his hands behind his back, and began.

"First off… What a successful year, for all of us! I hope we all continue to have these successes, whether we are doing so in a subsequent year of our education, or if we are headed into the world to take up exciting careers. Whatever the case, if you have worked hard, success will follow you. If you haven't worked hard, my sincerest hope is that you will learn to do so as soon as possible."

Riley made a sad face and traced a fake teardrop down his cheek. Scott sniggered.

"Speaking of hard workers, I believe our fair Hufflepuff House has achieved something exciting!" said Wilcox. "Here are the point totals for the House Cup!

"Ravenclaw was in fourth with three hundred and ninety four points. Slytherin was in third, with four hundred and thirty three points. Gryffindor took second, with four hundred and fifty seven points… and Hufflepuff is our winning House, with five hundred and eighteen points! Congratulations to Hufflepuff! This is a new record; Hufflepuff has never taken either the House Cup or the Quidditch Cup for six years in a row. This year, they've taken both! I think a round of applause is in order, everyone!"

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws clapped half-heartedly; the Slytherins barely clapped. But the Hufflepuffs were going ballistic. Euan Yodelhop's friends were all reaching over and shaking him violently as he laughed. Albus glanced up at the staff table. Professor Plinky and Professor Westerling were both crying with happiness; they were both Hufflepuff teachers, Professor Westerling being head of Hufflepuff House. Professor Westerling actually left the staff table to shake Euan's hand and hug him.

"I'm shocked," said Nearly Headless Nick, floating by the first years.

"Why?" said Eben, confused. "Everybody knew Hufflepuff was going to win again this year."

"No, I'm shocked that Gryffindor took second," explained Nick.

"Why would you be surprised at that?" asked Toby. "You're supposed to be rooting for us, aren't you?"

"Nine boys to five girls in Gryffindor came in this year," Nick said. "Nothing against males in general, but preteen boys…" He shook his head. "I'm shocked we made better than last place!"

He sailed away as the rest of the boys began to badmouth him, holding his hands up, clearly intending them to understand, "it's true, don't kill the messenger."

"Now, we must reluctantly feast," said Wilcox. "I will see most of you again next year. Third years who have signed up to be mentors to the incoming first years, we again sincerely thank you. Those moving into your fifth year, remember to balance your N.E.W.T. work with helping your mentee select classes and deal with the harder coursework; this is a four-year commitment! And with that, I conclude my announcements. Have a wonderful summer, everyone! It'll be a historic one!"

O

The train rumbled into King's Cross slowly, and the friends said their final farewells.

"Next time we see each other, Muggles will know about magic," said Aidan, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's… crazy."

"I still don't think it's a good idea," said Eftan. "But at this point… it's like it's a choice between two bad ideas. I mean, Muggles deserve the truth as to why so many of them were just massacred."

"Where's Mia?" asked Alec, looking around, completely oblivious (as usual) to the mood of the current conversation.

Albus shook all of his friends' hands, and then they walked out into the aisle.

In front of them was James. He tousled Albus's hair and grinned in his direction. But as he was turned in their direction, Lucy pushed her way through the aisle and got up close; when James turned back around, she stuck something in his mouth.

James's hair snapped out behind his head as if in a breeze, and then his hairs changed color and length, one by one, until he had Lucy's head of flowing red hair. He pulled the Toupeepop out of his mouth and gawked.

"_Unending vengeance!_" called Lucy, with short and messy brown hair, laughing her head off with her friends at James's new hairstyle.

James nodded in appreciation of the prank, but narrowed his eyes and pointed a finger at her face.

As they were exiting the train, about to look for their parents, Albus heard his name called. He turned around to see Holly waving at him; she bounded over with a spring in her step and skidded to a stop next to him.

"Er," she said nervously. "Have—Have a nice summer!"

"You too," said Albus, smiling congenially, very glad that she had thought of him.

"Just wanted to… say goodbye," she said, and she leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek.

Albus heated up so badly that he started to sweat as Holly scampered away.

"G—Goodbye," he said, about five seconds after she had left.

Alec laughed. "Nice."

A loud squeal came from behind Albus, and he turned around to see Rose run at him and embrace him in a hug. She nearly crushed his lungs with the force.

"I knew it! I knew Holly liked you!" she yelled delightedly, and then Albus knew why she was so happy when he had told her that he and Holly were just friends: She'd known he was lying.

When she extricated herself from his neck, his father was standing over them, smiling curiously. Thankfully, he didn't ask about the exchange; he just took his turn with the hugs. When he turned to hug James, he gave a start, and then he actually looked angry.

"What on _EARTH_—"

"Lucy's fault," mumbled James, tossing his long locks out of his face.

"We can't bring you around the Muggle world looking like this!" shouted Harry, as Ginny walked up to them with Lily and stifled a laugh in her coat sleeve.

"What happened?"

"Lucy's re-vengeance," explained James.

"Toupeepops," said Albus.

"Well, they work, so props to George," said Ginny, sighing.

"What are we going to do about this?" asked Harry. "A hat?"

He waved his wand, and James's hair whipped straight up on his head; Harry conjured a hat out of the air, and crammed it down over all of the hair. It still looked like a girl's hair, but at least it wasn't extremely out of the ordinary now. Ginny produced a hooded jacket which James could use to hide where the hair stuck out the back.

"What have we learned today about antagonizing our cousins?" scolded Ginny.

"Girls suck," muttered James under his breath.

"Was it his fault?" asked Harry, leaning over to Albus.

Albus nodded.

"Hey!"

"You and your unending vengeance," said Albus as they passed through the barrier again. "Just telling the truth."

"She brought on my unending vengeance!"

"Do you even remember what you were mad at her about?"

"That's not the point."

Lily pushed herself between them. "Did you ask Professor Wilcox if I could come early?" she asked, batting her eyelashes.

"You never asked us to—"

_CRACK._

The distinctive sound of Apparition echoed across the station. Muggles screamed and pointed, and Harry turned and gasped at the place where a thin and lanky woman dressed in full wizarding robes had just appeared out of the air. Albus watched his father's face drain of color, and he knew the same fear—what was this woman doing? Didn't she know that the global revelation hadn't happened yet?

Two boys with pointed noses and sharp, severe eyebrows walked towards the woman; Albus recognized them from the Defense Association as Red and Asher Pierce, a second year Slytherin and a fourth year Slytherin. A second _crack_ heralded the appearance of a man who looked similar to the boys: but the first Apparition had drawn the attention of the Muggle crowd, and _almost every single eye in the area was upon him_.

"WORSHIPPERS OF SATAN!"

A shaky-looking man with a long beard was pointing a gnarled finger at the family, his eyes wide with shock as the crowd screamed and ran from the wizard. He pulled out a shining metal object from his coat, and Albus had seen it before—in the movie that Eftan had on his phone, The Dark Knight—Eftan's voice described the device again in his mind—_They're Muggle substitutes for wands, except all they do is kill_—

_BANG_.

It was a louder sound than any spell that Albus had ever heard cast; it echoed violently across the walls, and a red spray painted the walls as the father spun on the spot and dropped to the floor limply, a pool of blood spilling from his skull. The crowd screamed again as he directed the gun next towards the mother, but she had whipped out a wand, and a whip of energy flew across the room, striking the gun from the deranged murderer's hands. Rage was aflame in her face, and with complete disregard to the crowd, she jabbed her wand at the man who killed her husband, and a whirling torrent of darkness cascaded upon him and tore most of the flesh off of his face. Another wave upended his body, and a final slash sent his head careening off his shoulders into the wall.

She grabbed her sons and her husband's body, and Disapparated while the remaining Muggles watched, dumbstruck. Harry grabbed his wife by the hand and his children by the collars and they turned on the spot, sliding through a crushing tube of darkness, a sensation unlike any that Albus had ever experienced, before they tumbled onto soft grass in a field near their house.

Lily stood up on shaky legs and vomited, as James clutched his heaving chest and gasped, "Was—Was that Apparition?"

"Side-Along," said Harry, looking as though he'd never be calm again. "We needed to get out of there, as fast as possible. I didn't care who saw us, they'd seen enough."

"That was Greta Pierce," said Ginny, a hand to her mouth. "I don't understand. They knew it was forbidden to use magic before the global revelation. And that—that was Dark Magic she used on that man."

"We need to get to the house," said Harry, and without another word, they set off on a fast walk, arriving at their house within five minutes; their house, as Albus knew, was protected, making it impossible for anyone to Apparate near it, which was why they had to Apparate so far.

Mr. Dempsey was watering the lawn, and he glanced over at the Potters as they passed by, yelling a question about why they didn't bring the car back. Neither Harry nor Ginny answered him; they hadn't spoken a word in the entire walk, and they didn't spare many words after they'd arrived, either. Harry only said one thing for the rest of the day.

"A _global revelation_," he said to himself, shaking his head, which was buried in the safety of his hands.

Albus had to wonder if anything was ever going to be the same again.

* * *

_**Well! That's it for Albus Potter and the Global Revelation. The first chapter of Albus Potter and the Lunar Eclipse has been uploaded if you're reading this. Hope you all liked it and hope you all like the next one!**_


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